Whom the Gods Hate
by Annabett
Summary: Forces of the Old Religion had their own plans, and not everything is as it seems. Can the future be altered or is fate irreversible? A destroyed king, Uther, Arthur, Morgana and Gaius' past, the Great Purge, the Old Religion. The character's thoughts on Uther and vice versa (Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana...). No slash, no pairings. T rated because of the emotional tragedy.
1. Chapter 1

Her hands were soft and cold, touching his hands carefully and reluctantly. Her voice was silent and cautious and he did not remember what she just said. Perhaps it was something about the weather outside again, something she has been telling him almost every day and which he did not quite understand. He was here. Here in his world, a blurry, grey surrounding, filled with dust and fog.  
The pattern of the window... He rembered that it used to be golden and orange when the sunbeams hit the small pieces of glass. He knew what orange looked like and he knew what the air outside smelled like but it was only a memory. He could not feel it anymore. When he tried to remember how it felt to see a colour, something that was so normal, he only remembered that he felt the joy of watching the coloured sunlight playing around the window. He remembered but he did not feel it.  
Every smell and every sound had lost their fascination, and when he tried to feel it once again, it was like trying to go through a grey wall without a door, knowing what was behind it but being unable to reach the other side.  
Why was everything around him coloured like ashes? It was not right, he knew exactly that his clothes, his bed, the table and everything he saw in his chambers had colours. It was all grey now, dark, foggy. Like a battle field in winter when the fires had burnt down what was grassland before and when even the blood of the dead soldiers mingled with the mud and turned to grey and black.  
Guinevere smelled like roses and apple. She has always smelled like this and he noticed it very well. But he could not feel anything about it anymore.  
It did not arouse any memory and he did not enjoy it, nor was it unpleasant. He did not care. He knew her name. He would never forget it although he has never called her by her name. She was here to serve him but he did not know why. She hated him and how could she not?  
But he did not care that she saw him like this, weak and petrified. All his rare movements felt like moving under water, heavy but light at the same time, slow and ponderous, but he forgot about every movement immediately as if he had just dreamt of it in a dream when he tried to run but could only walk. All was grey.  
He heard the word "Sire". What could she possibly want from him and why did he even care? Suddenly he found himself holding a goblet in his hand. He did not look at it but only felt it in his hands, a cold iron and smooth goblet, and then her cold hands covering his fingers and lifting his arm.  
He remembered when his father once did the same and lifted his arm that way when he refused to kill the piglet. The tall man right next to him looked down on him, staring, with grey eyes, and demanding him to prove his sword skills by hitting the piglet that was even smaller than himself and screaming in fear. He could barely hold the sword that was almost his size. Lifting the heavy steal was like lifting a horse but his father helped him, telling him over and over again to finally kill the small animal, telling him that his duties required him to do things he did not want to do and that compassion could cost him his life.  
The piglet turned around in circles in the corner and he could not bare to hit it with the sword. His fingers relaxed, leaving the sword that fell down while his father still held his arm up in his strong grip. When he finally let go of his arm, the grey eyes of his father looked at him in disappointment before he left without saying a word.  
His small hands grabbed the sword and he approached the piglet, lifting the sword with the strength of his whole small body of a child but he still could not do it.  
The sword was about to fall down again when he gave up and decided that the small animal should live, but two strong hands suddenly grabbed his arms and struck down the piglet with just one cut. It was suddenly silent now and when he looked up, he saw the blue eyes of a servant, the scarred face and brown hair.  
It was a cold glance that the servant gave him and the words still echoed in his mind.  
"Compassion can kill you. Mercy does not feed you. And what looks innocent does not necessarily have to be innocent. Remember that when you have your own House or kingdom one day and when you teach you own children."  
The servant let go of his arms and left. Staring at the piglet lying in its own blood, he dropped the sword once again. The blood and the dead body of the animal turned blurred when tears filled his eyes. He had played with the piglet before and had held it in his arms. The sound of the falling sword made him run.

"Sire?"  
He found himself standing in front of his chair. Guinevere kneeled on the floor, picking up the goblet. The water reached his feet and he stared at the mess.  
He watched the maid cleaning the floor, washing away the piglet's blood that stood no chance.  
"Why did you do that?" he suddenly yelled at the maid servant. "Why did you DO that?"  
Guinevere's brown eyes looked at him in surprise and his memories faded. He was standing in his chambers and it was not blood but only water. The maid stood up and softly put her hands on his shoulder. She gently pushed him into the chair. "I will get you a new one, Sire."  
He swallowed. Why had he not cleaned the corner from the piglet's blood? He could have buried the body but he ran away and hid in his bed chamber.  
Who had cleaned the corner of the stable?  
Guinevere... The maid servant of Morgana. "You can't even begin to know how much I hate you."  
He held his breath and his chest convulsed. He felt dizzy. His chest felt like bursting.

He remembered that. When he held Ygraine in his arms, seeing her taking her final breath and her eyes staring at the ceiling. He did not breathe, he could not. His body felt as if it was crushed under a heavy weight, as if his heart had stopped beating and got as heavy as a stone. The first breath he took again was a sob. He did not not know how long it had taken him to breathe again. He did not hear his own sobbing and crying but he knew that he did when his tears fell down on her face. He held her close to him, firm and tight, trying to bring her back to life just by his own body strength, trying to warm her body. She could not be gone, she could not. He held her so close, there was no way for her to escape into nothing. She could not because he was here and he held her body and captured her soul within it. He kept her warm.  
A hand touched his shoulder. It was Gaius. Yes, Gaius was a physician, he could help Ygraine, of course. A physican's purpose was to save people's lives.  
With Giaus and himself being here for Ygraine, she could not die and could not leave him. Impossible.  
"Sire"...  
His tears... Ygraine's face... He suddenly realised that he had to dry her beautiful face. How rude of him to wet her face. He gently lifted his hand up to her cheeks... her eyes... wide open. Staring at the ceiling. He felt so sick, he could not breathe. This was not real, she was...  
"I am so sorry, Sire... The Queen is dead". Gaius's soft voice felt like a stab in his stomach. He felt so sick, he hurt all over. She was so innocent, how could she be dead? All this blood, was it really hers?  
Gaius' hands gently grabbed Uther's shoulders and Ygraine's body slowly sank back into the pillows. Uther stood up when Gaius gently led him away from the bed.  
His legs were shaking and Gaius held him when his knees felt like butter. He felt so sick. His whole body was shaking and he sweat and was cold at the same time.  
Giaus led him to the door, holding his arm, and Uther tumbled towards the hallways like he was walking in a dream, in a nightmare. The dizziness worsened and he vomitted.  
All went black and dark. He felt arms lifting him up and he had no idea who it was and what was happening.  
The pillow was soft and the air smelled of smoke. He was so tired. A hand touched his forehead. "He is in shock."  
When he opened his eyes, he saw Gaius standing above him, talking to the manservant. "I will stay with him."  
Uther tried to lift his body up, he had to go to Ygraine to help her. It was cold and he needed to keep her warm... He thought that he was already on his way to her chambers but then realised that he was still lying in his bed, unable to lift his arm. He was so tired, he felt so sick... Where was the baby?

Gwen looked at the king who was staring at nothing, calm and motionless. If it had not been for his chest moving up and down, Gwen would have thought that he was dead. And if it had not been for the tears running down his face, Gwen would have thought that there was nothing going on in the king's mind.  
She was tempted to dry his face but thought it was inappropriate. Instead she touched his hand, instinctively. It was warm, as usual. He has always had warm hands in the past past month after the incident with Morgana, even when it was freezing cold, and Gwen often thought that he had a fever. But Gaius reassured her that he did not suffer from fever.  
It was cold indeed. Gwen shivered and took a blanket from the cupboard. When she put it around the king's shoulders, he did not move or blink. His short, grey hair was touseled and his eyes were red. The maid servant did not know what to feel for Uther. She felt sorry for him but she also reminded herself that he was the man who had ordererd to execute her father. When her father was killed killed, she had felt no hate but only grief and despair. She knew that Uther was convinced of her father's guilt and that the law was strict and clear about it. Gwen also knew that her father had not meant to harm anyone and that he did not deserve to die.  
How could the king be so hard, so cold and mercyless? How could Arthur have a father who was so cold? Yet she knew that he was not cold and heartless, she has always known that he loved Arthur and Morgana, and there were even a lot of people who thought of him as a good king.  
She only could not understand why he did not see what others felt for his victims, why he did not see that he was not the only one who loved his family but that there were others who held their loved ones dear, too. Was he even capable of understanding this?  
Gwen wondered if Uther has ever felt compassion for anyone.  
She did not hate him. She pitied him. And she used to fear him. But not anymore, he was not in a position to threaten anyone, at least not for the moment. She had seen him in his weakest state, taking care of him in almost every possible way since Arthur asked her to look after him. There were still some things he could do on his own but still he did not seem to care anymore if a serving girl saw him naked when helping him to dress on rare occasions. Something which she tried to avoid. She did not feel embarassed and surely, neither did him, but she did not want to see the helpless man in him he has become, a normal person as weak and vulnerable as anyone else. She fought the feeling of compassion because it was easier to simply feel nothing for him, to regard him as a subject of her duty she has agreed to when Arthur asked her to take care of his father.  
It became more difficult with each passing day. Gwen caught herself thinking about what Uther would be like if he was not king of Camelot. What would he be like if he was a commoner or simply a citizen of noble blood? Maybe even her neighbour?  
She shook her head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. Uther was responsible for her father's death, even though he had to execute the law and even though the law protected Camelot from sorcery. Feeling nothing for him was easier.  
Gwen reached out for the plate with fruits that Uther had not touched and saw the king's hand twitching, like the hand of a person does sometimes when they fall asleep. He had stopped crying and his eyes, red and swollen, were sunk and looked tired. Gwen frowned. It became more difficult with each passing day.

"Gwen." The maid servant turned around and saw Gaius entering. The old physician took a quick look at the king while approaching Gwen. His blue eyes that usually spoke of concern and compassion looked at her softly. "I can stay with the king for a while. You need to rest, the past days must have been exhausting for you."  
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. "I have to give him his medicine anyway."  
Gwen nodded. "Thank you." Her eyes wandered over to Uther.  
"He has been crying the whole time."  
The old physician just blinked knowingly and Gwen took the plate. "Good night, Gaius."  
While Gwen left the chambers, Gaius walked over to Uther and observed him for a while. The king did not move but only gazed into nothingness..  
The physician showed Uther a small bottle with fluid. "Sire, you have to take your medicine."  
He did not expect a reaction and opened the tiny bottle.  
"Sire!" Gaius' voice was now a little more determined. Uther blinked just once and emptied the bottle that Gaius took to his lips. His mouth was left open when the old physician corked the small bottle up. He put it on the table and examined Uther by touching his throat and forehead. Physically, he seemed to be healthy, but he weakened every day. The king refused to eat enough.  
"You have to eat, Uther". This was not the first time that Gaius spoke this sentence. He remembered when he tried to convince the king a long time ago, at a time when nothing was left of the strong and proud king Gaius used to know.

Uther woke up. He had the worst headache he could ever remember, and when his arm reached the left side of the bed the world came crushing down on him again.  
His bed was empty, his hand touched empty sheets. It was dark outside and the smell of cold smoke filled the room.  
The empty room, the dark and empty room in this terrible night. Ygraine... He stood up and walked out of the room, passing the guards that stood in front of his chambers outside in the hallways. The corridors seemed to be endlessly long and he was walking them like a sleepwalker, slowly, weak, numb. His naked feet went cold but he did not care. He saw the doors at the end of the hallway, and opened them. The room was empty. Just like his own. The bed was made, freshly and oderly, as if nothing had ever happened. He approached the bed and stared at it, blinking when his sight went blurry. This must be a nightmare. A terrible, horrific nightmare.  
He slowly stepped over to a window, opened it and looked down on the courtyard, the hard stones that reflected the pale moonlight. It was high enough.  
Yes, the cold, fresh air would take away his pain, the short fall would ease his burden until the ultimate darkness would free him from this misery.  
Leaning forward was so easy. Just one move. Soon it will be over.  
He could feel the cold wind...  
A baby cried. He did not know how long he had stood at the open window, listening to the baby cries until he catched his breath and suddenly stepped back.  
A baby. His son.  
He turned around and walked towards the doors that would lead him to the hallways again and to the chambers next to this one, the ones in which his son's wet-nurse was living for the time being and feeding the newborn baby. Ygraine could not, they had figured it long before...when she was...still...still...  
When he opened the doors of the wet-nurse's chambers, the woman was nursing the baby, and she looked up in surprise at Uther. The young king just stood there, watched the female stranger feeding his son. She suddenly stood in front of him and dropped her gaze, holding the tiny baby in front of him.  
How long had he been standing and staring here? Uther took the baby that was softly chortling, his eyes closed and his tiny body swathed tightly in soft cloths.  
For a second he was about to go to his chambers to show the baby to Ygraine...He gasped and felt his chest aching again.  
He saw tears falling down on the baby's face. The baby fell asleep, not knowing what the one who held him felt, not knowing what happened.  
Uther stared at the soft facial features and the innocence of this fragile new life. He glanced at the window in this room and then at his son again.  
No. Uther knew that he had to live for him. He did not know how he was supposed to do that but he had to live.

It was late already when Merlin entered the king's chambers, looking for Gaius. How chilly this night was.  
The young wizard spotted Gaius sitting on a chair, his chin down on his chest and his eyes closed. The king was asleep in his bed.  
Merlin headed straight towards Giaus and did not care about being quiet. For the past weeks Uther had not reacted to anyone or anything anyway, so in case he woke he would either fall asleep again or just stare motionless, captured in his own world, as Merlin assumed. He did not care. It was Arthur he felt sorry for, not the king.  
No, that was not quite true. There was some compassion for Uther, but right now he was relieved that he did not have to watch every single step he took, always fearing  
that Uther would discover Merlin's powers and kill him right ahead.  
"Gaius". Merlin said.  
The old physician opened his eyes immediately. "I must have dozed off", he said.  
The young sorcerer noticed that Gaius looked at Uther who was still asleep.  
"I think I can leave him. It is late anyway." Gaius stood up.  
"He will recover someday." Merlin was not convinced by his own words, yet it was the first thing that came to his mind.  
Gaius frowend gently. "I'm not so sure, Merlin. I've seen him in a similar situation before but there was someone who helped him out of it."  
Merlin could not imagine what similar situation this could have possibly been. He has always seen Uther as a proud and tyrannical king who was always cautious  
to not show weakness to his people. The only glimpses of vulnerability he gave was when he once thought that Arthur was dying and later when he was convinced that  
Arthur was dead. And then there was a moment when he cried over Morgana in front of him. When he remembered that, he thought he knew what Gaius was referring to.  
"Arthur?"  
The old physician nodded.  
"Perhaps he can do it again", Merlin said while a part of him hoped that he would not. The young sorcerer suddenly felt ahsamed of his thoughts and swallowed.  
He reminded himself of the fact that they were talking about Arthur's father and also about Gaius'... friend? Merlin was not so sure if Gaius could be considered as Uther's friend. There was a bond, however. Perhaps it was something close to a friendship, he thought. And perhaps it was simply the past they shared.  
Merlin has often wondered what Gaius felt for Uther and why he sometimes even seemed to care. He too had suffered at Uther's hands, after all. Yet, there was this bond...  
As if Gaius had read his young friend's mind, he said: "Perhaps it is not entirely his fault."  
Merlin looked at Gaius, puzzled and surprised. "What do you mean?"  
Gaius took a deep breath and looked at Uther again. "There was something... back then... when he was a baby..." He paused and pressed his lips together.  
The young sorcerer suddenly had tons of questions and a dozen other thoughts on his mind, but all that came out of his mouth was: "No...Uther was never a baby."  
The soft twitch in the corner of Gaius' mouth showed Merlin that he knew what his young friend was referring to. Merlin could not help but continuing his silly thoughts.  
"He was born as king already, with clothes, a sword and his crown on his head."  
He looked at Uther and then at Gaius. "I suppose his first word was 'sorcery'."  
Now Gaius smiled and Merlin was glad that he could ease his old friend's mind for a while, realising that they talked about this all in front of the sleeping king.  
The sorcerer had another reason why he actually did not want to hear about this and why he tried to make fun of it. He did not want to see this tyrant as a normal person who once even was a helpless baby, born to parents who surely loved him. It made it much more difficult to simply wait for the king's death.  
Again Merlin felt ashamed. He never considered Uther as being evil. He did not even hate him. Instead he knew about the king's goodness burried deep down under hatred and desperation.  
But no. He could not help but feel that a part of him wanted Uther dead. Finally gone.  
"I assure you, he wasn't". Gaius still smiled.  
"But..." Merlin shook his head. "I thought you met shortly before the Great Purge. How could you have known him as a ..."  
Merlin raised his eyebrows and slightly distorted his mouth. "... baby?"  
He tried to shake off this image and the old physician did not look at Merlin. "I helped him into this world."  
Merlin stared at Gaius but did not know what to say. Suddenly, Gaius looked at him and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, softly directing him out of the king's chambers.  
"Never mind, Merlin. It is late, let's go."

The silent whistle of the wind outside Gaius' room and the soft rattle of the small window slowly turned into a weird rythm, as if someone wanted Gaius' attention by making these noises. This sound had helped Gaius to sleep the past few days, yet it became annoying now that the old physician tried to clear his mind of things he had successfully burried deep down in a corner of his mind where they were not supposed to come out again.  
For days he had been wanting to ask Merlin to finally repair the window. Only the events of the past weeks distracted the old physician's mind, especially with Agravaine's arrival. Arthur's uncle had never been someone Gaius trusted.. There was something odd about this man, something that made Gaius shiver. He crawled deeper into his sheets, trying to get some sleep.  
He heard Merlin sneazing in his bedroom. The young sorcerer had been very curious about Gaius' past after he had mentioned Uther's birth, but at the same time there was reluctance in Merlin's eyes, just as if he did not want to hear anything about it. And Gaius had decided to not tell Merlin about the events anyway.  
Perhaps it was not the right time yet. Perhaps it never was. The young warlock has already heard a lot about prophecies and fate. He has already tried his best to change what was impossible to change and he has already dealt enough with fear.  
Something told Gaius that Merlin was not eager to see the king recover, and as much as he wanted Merlin to stay being the wise and compassionate young man, his fisrt priority and biggest wish was Merlin to be save.  
The old physician tried to ignore the fact that his young friend, the one who was like a son to him, slowly turned into more indifferent man who was willing to make sacrifices for the future he was destined to bring about.  
At the same time he was concerned, and he deeply regretted that Merlin's enthusiastic attempts to help others was about to vanish. His compassion was not as strong as it used to be.  
For a moment, Gaius was tempted to go to Merlin and tell him what has been bothering his mind for many decades already. To let him know everything about what Gaius knew, to get it off his chest and to finally have somebody at his side who knows the truth and who might be able to make a difference.  
But he could not. More weight and responsibility on Merlin's shoulders... no.  
How could he tell him about the curse, a curse laid on a newborn baby, Uther, the very day he had just come into this world? How could he explain to Merlin that Gaius has never talked about it with anyone, not even with Uther who had a different name back then?  
No. He could not make Merlin question his own kind and he could not give Merlin another reason to try to heal the one who was a threat to Merlin's life.  
But was he? The weak and helpless man - was he still a threat?  
Gaius thoughts wandered back to the day when Uther's mother was in labour when the midwife could not help her due to an illness that even killed her just two days later. Gaius had been a steady guest in the palace of Uther's father, Constantinus, the mighty and powerful king of Rome. Gaius had just finished his apprenticeship as a physician. He was the youngest of all physicians in this region and he became very nervous when one evening, Constantinus grabbed his arm and almost dragged him to his wife's chambers, yelling at him to help her. Help her? How was he supposed to do this? He had never helped to deliver a baby before, especially since men were not allowed in the same room as the woman who gave birth to a child.  
Constantinus pulled the heavy doors open and Gaius almost lost his balance when he was pushed into the chambers in which the screaming woman lay in the bed, about to give birth to the third child of Constantinus.  
Instinctively, the young physician hurried over to the bed and tried to figure out what was wrong with either the mother or the baby. He did not think about what he was doing when he suddenly realised that the cord was about to strangle the child inside the mother's womb. His next actions happened also purely instinctively and he had no idea how long it had taken him to solve the problem. And suddenly, he held the tiny baby in his hands. Gaius could not help but laugh when the child took his first breath and started to cry.  
"It's a boy!" shouted Gaius.  
He gently cleaned the tiny body, almost afraid of crushing it. When he looked at the baby's mother he noticed that she fought with tears and unconsciousness.  
Gaius laid the baby into his mother's arms."Your son"  
She breathed heavily when embracing her newborn child, but at least she smiled. From the corner of his eyes, Gaius saw the maid servant running out of the room and it did not take long until Constantinus entered the chambers.  
The tall man with the grey eyes looked down on his new son and his wife. "He is small".  
Gaius looked up to Contantinus who gazed at his newborn son lying on his mother's chest. "Why is he so small?"  
The young physician did not know what to say. The baby was indeed very small.  
"He will grow", said the mother, softly and exhausted. "Like all our sons."  
It was time to leave, Gaius thought. This was not their first child and they surely knew much better what to do than he, the young physician who had never witnessed a child delivery before.  
What an astounding and wonderful experience this was. He had really held this warm new life in his own hands, he had heard the first cry echoing from the walls, greeting the air and light of this world. Amazing! It was a true wonder. Gaius smiled on his way out of the room and he closed the heavy doors silently, not wanting to scare off the newborn life lying in its mother's arms.

_"Of bitter taste your bliss shall be_  
_In love the dire pain you will see_  
_Dooomed are those for who you shed your tears_  
_And they shall be your doom and fears"_

Gaius turned around in the hallways. "Hello?" he said. "Who is there?"  
The young physician searched the dim hallways with his eyes from where he thought he had heard a voice reciting a rhyme. "Who is that?"  
He saw nobody, heard no sound except his own movements when slowly walking past the doors until he reached the end of the hallways with flickering torches on the walls.  
Gaius was alone, yet he had heard this voice...But It was quiet. Gaius stood still, breathing slowly, and his eyes wandered around, his mind focusing on just any noise that might occur. There was nothing but only the huge dim hallways and total silence.  
"LEAVE!" shouted a voice in his ear.  
Gaius gasped frozen in shock. Then he ran.  
He ran down the stairs at the end of the hallways, ran around the corner, straight down the next hallways until he reached the outside. He stopped for a moment, looked around. Then he continued running until he reached his small house and slammed the door behind him, standing behind it, breathing heavily.  
His heart raced.  
It took him a few minutes to calm down. Gaius took a deep breath and sat down on a chair. What in the world was this? And why was he so scared?  
He was a physician, a rational, logical and pragmatical man, not a fearful boy. However, the loud voice that had screamed in his ear almost scared him to death.  
It had been a sharp voice that seemed to slam right into his head, so loud that he still had a ringing in his ear. The young physician stood up and hurried to the window, searching the dark streets. No-one could be seen. It was quiet and calm outside.  
He needed to talk to Constantinus immediately. Yes, he needed to tell him what happened and he had to gather some things that would help him finding out what magical being... No.  
He could not talk to Constantinus. The tall Roman king denied magic completely. In his mind, it did not even exist. Magic was just superstition, fairytales by old women and charlatans. What was Gaius supposed to do? He tried to remember the spell or rhyme or whatever this terrible voice cited. Doom... tears... a bitter taste...  
He suddenly heard heavy footsteps, a rattling rhythm, and Gaius knew that the guards were coming down the street. A loud hammering on his door made Gaius cringe.  
"Medicus! Your presence is required!"  
The physician dropped his books and hastily opened the door. "Is it Regina Aurora?"  
"Her son", one of the guards answered.

_"...your doom and fears!_" Uther opened his eyes. The last words echoed in his head, loud and scary. Where was he? The wall next to him was shining bright when sunlight hit the room. He was in his bed, curled up in a ball and burried deep into the sheets that covered half of his face. He remembered. It was dream. Was it a dream?  
"Good morning, Sire". The female voice that greet him belonged to Guinevere. Yes, it was only a dream.  
The maid servant put a plate onto the table which Uther only knew by hearing the sound. He did not move in his bed. The bits and parts of the dream still haunted his mind and he was afraid that they could catch him again if he moved and drew their attention. He did not want to go back there.  
"Sire". The maid servant stood right in front of him but he did not look up. "Your man servant will be here soon." She slightly bent over. "For your bath."  
His eyelids felt so heavy. The dim light behind them was much more pleasant than the bright sunlight in his room and Uther recalled the words that still echoed in his mind over and over again. He had kept hearing them for a long time, every day since he has been captured in his own thoughts of decay and darkness.  
He has always been remembering them so very well since the first time he heard them when Arthur was only two days old. Those words that were etched in his mind forever and that had caused him years of nightmares.  
This horrible shiny creature with a face of a woman that said those words the day of Ygraine's funeral, floating above the cradle in which Arthur slept.  
Uther remembered when he entered his chambers in which Arthur slept that he saw this wobbling and stretching thing talking to the baby, citing the words over and over again

_"Of bitter taste your bliss shall be_  
_In love the dire pain you will see_  
_Dooomed are those for who you shed your tears_  
_And they shall be your doom and fears"_

Forgotten was his grief for a moment and the devastating funeral of Ygraine, his weak legs that barely carried him up to the chambers, now that he drew his sword. "Get away from him!" screamed Uther in rage and he stormed toward the creature that looked like a vague picture of a woman. He swung his sword and ran through the creature like through thin air. This thing that had invaded his chambers flew over to him until it was directly in front of his face. Uther saw nothing but a greenish light as if the entire room was flooded by it. Instantly, he felt like being under water, he could not breathe and move.  
"The cycle never ends!" a voice shouted in his face. The next moment it was gone. Uther blinked and gasped for air. Then he swirled around with his sword wielding in circles, hoping to hit the intruder. But it was gone.  
Baby cries. Arthur. The king hurried over to the cradle and took his crying newborn son out of the cradle, carrying him gently in his arms. Arthur seemed to be unharmed but his skin was hot and sweaty. "Guards!" Uther screamed. "Guards!"  
He did not wait for the guards to open the doors but ran outside, passing the puzzled men who were supposed to protect his chambers and most of all Arthur. He needed Gaius as quick as possible.  
The baby did not stop crying while Uther hurried to the physician's laboratory. When he finally reached it he pushed the door open and saw Gaius looking startled at him.  
"He is sick", said Uther and the physician reacted without hesitation, took Arthur out of Uther's arms and began his examination.  
"What is wrong, Gaius? There was a creature in my chambers, it was floating above his cradle and talking about doom."  
Instantly, Gaius looked at Uther, his eyes wide open. He stared at him while his hand rested on the crying baby's chest.  
"What is it, Gaius?" The look on the physician's face made the young king shiver but Gaius blinked and focused on Arthur again.  
"Nothing. I was just worried... I...perhaps it was a magical being..."  
"Of course it was!" Uther shouted and his voice cracked. "What is going on, Gaius? Tell me."  
"I don't know", said the physician in an unusual harsh tone. "Let me do my work here."  
The king stared at his son and at Gaius. His head was spinning, he did not know what was going on and what was wrong with Arthur.  
His thoughts went back to the funeral again, to Ygraine, his beloved wife. Her body being so pale, her face so calm...  
Arthur...  
"He has a fever", Uther heard Gaius saying. "A very high fever. I will prepare a potion."  
Fever... Uther shook his head, trying to get rid of the images of Ygraine's dead body. "What does it mean? Where does it come from?"  
The physician slightly shook his head and searched his shelfs nervously. Uther could have sworn that Gaius's hands were shaking when he found two tiny bottles and tried to open them.  
The king started to shake too, scared by Gaius' nervous reaction which did not promise anything good. If something happened to Arthur... he could not bear it.  
He ran a hand through his hair, watching Gaius mixing up fluids and giving it to Arthur who still cried. His tiny body was wrapped up in cloths and his face was wet from tears and sweat. Uther was tempted to just take the baby in his arms, but he knew that he had to let do Gaius his work.  
"We need to take away the cloths, or the fever will get worse". He had just given Arthur some drops of the potion by using a small wooden stick and the baby coughed.  
Gaius unwrapped Arthur and left him lying on Gaius' bed, the baby's arms and legs moving uncontrollably while crying.  
"What now, Gaius, what can we do? Where does the fever come from?"  
Gaius shook his head and said nothing.  
"Gaius!"  
"I do not know, sire. We have to wait." The physician looked at Uther. "You better get some sleep, it was a very... rough day."  
Gaius lowered his head, surely recalling Igraine's funeral and the events of the past days, Uther thought. But Uther could not just sleep now that his son was ill.  
He went to the doors and called some guards. "We have an intruder, search and find her. She looks like a... a shiny weird woman...Double the guards and report to me!  
I will be here at the physician's laboratory!"  
Uther went back to the bed in which Arthur still cried. "I will stay here with him."  
Gaius nodded. "Of course, sire."  
The king sat down and placed a hand on the baby's small chest. Arthur did not stop crying and Uther could not take it much longer. He gently took the baby and cradled him in his arms, kissing his forehead.  
"Sire..." said Gaius, but Uther did not look at at him. He heard footsteps and knew that the physician was leaving.  
Uther did not know how long it took until Arthur finally fell asleep but he was relieved when his son stopped crying and seemed to have calmed down, perhaps even seemed to feel better.  
Deep inside, Uther knew that it was just wishful thinking. The baby simply slept due to exhaustion.  
The words of the creature still echoed in Uther's mind.

Constantinus, king of Rome, put a hand on Gaius' shoulder and nodded. Then he left. The young physician has been staying with the baby boy, Ambrosius, for three days now and he did not know how to help him. The fever was much too high for such a small and young body and it did not arise due to natural causes. The medicine did not seem to work. Lost in his thoughts about the odd voice, he stroked the boy's head, instinctively trying to calm him down.  
It was urgent to find out what curse has been laid on the third son of Constantinus and what creature it was that he heard the day of the baby boy's birth.  
The young physician was relieved that Constantinus did not care at all about Giaus' books which gave him the opportunity to search them for an answer.  
His magical skills were still not well developed, and Gaius considered the possibility to go to find somebody who was familiar with curses and the ability to break spells.  
But what was he supposed to do? He needed to stay with Ambrosius.  
"Do not interfer with powers you do not understand!"  
Gaius twirled around. His eyes wide open, he spotted a shiny woman's face right behind him.  
"Who are you?"  
The woman did not answer.  
"You are the voice that I heard, are you not?!"  
"The boy is doomed. Leave!"  
Gaius took Ambroisus who had started to cry again, and walked away from the creature that was floating around.  
"I will not! What has the boy done to you that you dare to threaten him? Reverse the spell!" The young physician began to sweat and shiver. He had no idea with what powers he was messing around.  
"You want this mortal to be saved?" Her voice was calm and nothing like the sharp scream that had caused Gaius to run in panic some days ago.  
"It will come to a price, medicus."  
"What price? What do you mean?"  
The creature with a woman's face suddenly flew over to Gaius and stared at him as if she wanted to burn him with her black eyes.  
"Every creature has its purpose. It is the boy's purpose to be doomed."  
Gaius shook his head. "What does that mean? I don't understand!"  
"Of course, you do not understand. It is us who understand. His father does not believe."  
The young physician frowned. "And by making his son sick you expect him to believe in magic? For what purpose?"  
Now the creature frowned and she showed a hideous face. "Those who do not believe will bring the downfall of the Old Religion."  
"But he is just a baby, he is innocent!" Gaius held Ambrosius closer and tried to protect him with his body.  
"Yes, he is innocent. And yet he is chosen to be doomed. The future is as clear as the water of the lake of Avalon."  
Gaius shook his head again. "It does not make sense. The future is not set in stone."  
The creature rushed over to the edge of the room and then back to Gaius until she was right in front of his face.  
"Oh yes, it is! What do you know, mortal?"  
The young physician cringed and swallowed. "I have no idea what you are talking about but I know that if you wanted the baby dead, you could have killed him instantly. Your curse speaks of future happenings."  
The voice suddenly giggled. "Who said that the boy will die so soon? Little do you know. This fever is only the result of the spell, rushing the seeds of destruction through his blood." She lifted her chin, giving Gaius a cold glance. "The Old Religion chooses who it wants to choose. No mortal being has the right to demand freedom and a life without us."  
"You cannot kill or punish those who do not believe or who do not even have a chance to believe already, like him!"  
A horrible hissing sound came out of the creature's shiny mouth. "We can! Free choice of one's own future is an illusion. It is us who determin what is and what is not.  
The curse can only be lifted when this mortal embraces the Old Religion and joins us."  
The creature paused and then said: "The head of the dragon determins the time of choices."  
The young physician shook his head and stepped back until he bumped against the door, ignoring the baby cries.  
"But if you determine everything, how can anyone have a choice and how can he be left with the choice to join you? What does joining you even mean? And what do you mean by the 'head of the dragon'?"  
"His choice will determine his future. His fate is sealed, his future is set. His choices will decide his way. The ending will be the same."  
"Nothing you say makes sense!" shouted Gaius.  
"He will be saved if he makes the right choice. His obedience and serfdom to us will decide over the way he lives his life. Only when he does as we say, we will alter his future."  
With that the shiny creature disappeared and left Gaius standing with his back on the door, holding the baby that suddenly calmed down.  
The young physician just stood there for a while, sweating and trying to comprehend what was going on. Then he touched the baby's face and realised that the fever was gone.

When the prince of Camelot sat down in front of his father and began his report on court matters, he heard himself talking as if he was far away.  
His daily visits at Uther's chambers had become a routine and Arthur did not even have any interest in what he told his father who was sitting in his chair and not moving or reacting at all. Arthur felt devastated by his father's condition. It was not the responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders, now that he had taken over, at least until Uther would recover and be back in charge. It was the dead-like gaze of his father, the fact that he obviously did not even realise that his son was in the same room with him.  
Yet he hoped that Uther would hear him and suddenly wake up from his deep frozen state of mind. Arthur would not give up on him. Never.  
Uther used to be so strong, so determined, so proud, so unbreakable. It was merely a shadow of him that now stared into space and did not show any sign of consciousness.  
How could Morgana have destroyed him so much? Knowing that she had magic, the very thing that Uther has fought for decades, certainly was a shock.  
But what else did she tell him or do to him when she held him prisoner in the dungeons? Arthur remembered that his father muttered "she hates me" when Arthur brought him to his chambers after they had reconquered Camelot and taken it out of Morgana's ruthless grip.  
The prince knew that his father loved Morgana but he did not know that his love was strong enough to break him comletely. Of course, Uther had fought his own daughter without being aware of it. Yet he never had a chance to prove to her that his love was genuine, something of which Arthur had no doubt about.  
Did Morgana not see that her father was devastated by realising that he had fought her and that she hated him when he leaned at the wall in his cell, unable to move or speak?  
Arthur assumed that Morgana's heart was so hardened that she simply did not care about what was true and what were only her fears.  
Yet he knew that his father could be very ruthless at times. He also knew that Morgana was a master of provocation and challenge.  
She never knew when to stop, she never shut up until she carried everything to extremes.  
The prince remembered when the child Morgana came to Camelot as the daughter of deceased Gorlois. At first she was quiet and sad, and Arthur, a young boy himself, felt uncomfortable around her because he did not know what so say to a girl who had just lost her father. Or of who she thought was her father. Little did they know at that point of time.  
When Uther put his arms around her and then carried her to her chambers, she began to cry. She was quiet but Arthur saw her tears. And so did Uther because he gently told her not to cry and that she was safe in Camelot. In her chambers, he sat down on the bed and held her arms in both hands, reassuring her that she had nothing to fear and that everything will be alright. Young Arthur watched it from the open door until his father left Morgana to the maid and gently directed Arthur out of the room.  
"You will be kind to her", he told Arthur in the hallways while they passed the guards. "She is feeling alone and afraid."  
It was only a short moment until Arthur heard the crying voice of Morgana coming out of the room. "I will not stay here! I want my father back! Get me back to my home, I want my father!"  
Uther turned around with Arthur next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Morgana came running towards them and pushed Arthur so heavily that he lost his balance and fell down on the floor. Immediately, Uther's hands pulled him up on his feet again.  
"Morgana..." his father began, but Morgana tried to push Uther too, with very little success. "Stop it!" Uther demanded and grabbed Morgana's arm.  
The little girl cried and hit Uther's hand with her fist but she did not manage to free herself from his grip. She scratched his hand and even tried to bite him.  
"Morgana, please. No-one is going to harm you. I am so sorry for your loss. Your father... he was like a brother to me." He crouched down and met her face to face. "Please, child, you cannot go home. I am sorry. You are staying with us now, we will take care of you, Arthur and I. We love you, do you understand this?"  
Arthur grimaced. He did not love this shrill girl! She pushed him!  
The girl's face was wet from tears and her eyes were red and swollen. "I hate you," she said.  
Arthur saw a weird look on his father's face, something which he could not quite assess. Was he hurt?  
Uther's hand gently dried the girls face. Then he stood up and led her to her back to her new chambers where the maid took Morgana's hand, and the girl followed her while turning around, looking at Arthur in pain and grief.  
Arthur lowered his head because he did not know what to say or do. Crying girls were not something he could deal with. Uther stood at the door for a while, watching Morgana sitting on her new bed while the maid stroke her head to comfort her. The young prince saw blood on his father's hand, from the scratches that the girl caused.  
Uther turned around. "You will be kind to her", he told Arthur again and then lifted him up, carrying him down the corridors.

Arthur watched his father, lost in memories of past times, seeing Uther blinking once. The sun flooded the room and brought some warmth, yet Arthur shivered.  
Morgana, this once so hurt girl and then so compassionate and determined woman, was his half-sister. She was blood and she was their biggest enemy now.  
What was he supposed to do? He still loved her but she also caused them all great pain. A ruthless killer, an evil witch. His sister and Uther's daughter.  
The prince knew why his father had never told them about their relation. It would have caused great damage to everyone. Arthur wondered if Morgana had tried to get the throne much sooner, had she known about her parentage.  
He looked at Uther who slightly turned his head to the window.  
"Father?"  
The king did not react. Arthur caught himself thinking that his father disapproved of him because he did not return to Camelot in time, soon enough to prevent Morgana from taking the throne. He shook his head. Nonsense, he thought. How could he have prevented it when an army of immortals stormed the city and slaughtered everyone, leaving them no chance to defend themselves? Yet Arthur was sure that his father was not very proud of him even though Uther had told him several times that he was.  
The prince wondered why he could not get rid of the feeling that he was a disappointment to his father.  
He had already finished his report a while ago and now prepared himself for one final attempt to get a response from Uther.  
"Father..." He stood up and bent over to Uther, touching his shoulder. "What did she do to you?"  
Arthur waited a few seconds, observing his father. For a moment he thought that he saw a glimpse of eye movement. But maybe he was just imagining things.  
The face of the king was stony, the short hair messy and his gaze frozen.  
The prince turned around and saw his manservant standing at the door.  
"Arthur, the counsil is waiting."  
"I know, Merlin. I'm coming."

_You cannot even begin to imagine how much I hate you._  
The soft wind blew and her long black hair danced in the breeze. Warm sunlight kissed her pale skin and Morgana closed her eyes while she sat in the grass outside of her dirty wooden hut. Oh, how good it had felt to tell Uther these words, how blissful it was to see the devastated look in his eyes, to see him cry and his shock when he finally realised who his daughter was and how much she hated him.  
She had waited for that moment for so long and when it was finally there, she felt her blood running through her veins stronger than ever. She would never forget his face, him curled up in a corner of his cell, dirty, scared, alone and defeated.  
Now that he was released from his cell and that Morgana's battle was temporarily lost, she would give her arm to see Uther like this again. This despical tyrant, this arrogant, ruthless and loathsome man.  
The news of his current condition comforted Morgana and had cheered her up for weeks, made her forget about her miserable existance as a lonely woman trapped in her hut. Only Agravaine's regular visits and her thoughts about her father vegetating like a withered plant and a tormented dog distracted her from her rage about her new disgusting life.  
How could she have ever pretended to love him when he enfolded her in his arms her and kissed her on the cheek? She hated everything about him. The way he moved, talked, looked. His shoulders, his eyes, his face, his clothes. She wanted to crush him with her bare hands, seeing the life oozing out of his body.  
Oh how glorious it would have been if he had executed her plans she had with him. Damn Arthur! Damn little brother who freed this horrible king!  
His execution would have been an execution of which people would have talked about for centuries. His screams would have been heard across the land.  
Why had she not started to torture him much sooner when he was still in the dungeons, chained up on the wall? She had felt too save the moment she took the throne. This was a mistake she would not make again.  
Morgana's memories wandered back to the day when he last put his arms around her, so close and tight. How could such a callous and terrible person feel so warm?  
The pale sorceress wrapped her arms around herself when the breeze got colder and the sun hid behind the clouds. Why was he so warm?  
Why could he not hold her in his arms one more time?...  
Morgana suddenly gasped and looked in horror. Where did this thought come from? She jumped up and clenched her fists. The next moment she grabbed a billet of wood and tossed it at full tilt into the wall of her hut.  
What an unforgivable thought, what a disgusting impuls! How dared she thinking of things like this?  
She hated him! She hated him! This man who would have killed her instantly because of who she was, the one who killed his own wife without remorse, who never shed a tear for anyone except himself!.  
Morgause had been very clear on this, there was no doubt that Uther sacrificed Ygraine for his own power. And so he would have done with Morgana.  
Yes, it was all only about power and selfishness. She hated him! This liar, this tyrant!. Even his tears in the dungeon were only a lie.  
The last High Priestess of the Triple Goddes took a deep breath and went back into the hut, ignoring her glimpse of a doubt when wondering why Uther was now broken after all when he did not love her. Love... He did not even know the meaning of this word. Of course, he was broken because his little secret came out and because his precious "ward" who represented Camelot so well was a sorceress and not the upright little woman who let the king shine so gloriously.  
She did not allow herself to ever question her own hatred. And she did not allow herself to get distracted from her next plans. Time will be on her side when she will finally put an end to the male Pendragons, to the pityful servant Merlin, to the deceiving physician Gaius and to her cheating former maidservant Gwen. They were the ones standing in her way to the throne of Camelot.  
They shall suffer like she suffered. All of them. No exception for anyone. Their misery will be her bliss, their downfall will be her glory, their failure will be her power, once and for all.

Merlin listened to the knights while he cleaned their boots. Again. Arthur had a quite weird idea of giving Merlin a good time.  
Now that he served the knights by providing them with clean boots, he overheard them talking about Arthur and the king in the next room. He knew that he should not do this. But then, Merlin thought that what they said was true.  
Listening to them talking about Arthur and the king and also about the probable upcoming demise of Uther, the young sorcerer felt uncomfortable but somehow secure at the same knights were talking about the beginning of a better time when Uther would finally be gone. Gwaine was the first one who mentioned that he would lay down his life for Arthur at any time, but not for Uther.  
Something in the corner of Merlin's mind told him that it was not entirely Uther's fault that Gwaine once had not been accepted in Camelot. He had never told the king about his nobility.  
Yet Merlin reminded himself of his own thoughts about the king. While it was tradition that only those of noble blood could become a knight, the king would not loose his face when making an exception, he thought. He then thought about Lancelot and wondered if Uther would have changed his mind, had Lancelot not interfered the argument between Uther and Arthur and decided to leave Camelot on free will.  
It was not Merlin's buisness to question the traditions of Camelot or any other kingdom in regard to this and he acknowledged that the way that Uther ruled the kingdom has been quite effective for decades. Just not in regard to sorcery.  
The young warlock found himself thinking that he would know much better how to run a kingdom than the king himself. The first impuls to try to heal Uther when he saw him sitting on the floor in his chambers after the incidents with Morgana was only the last bit that was left of the young sorcerer's former self, the compassionate and helpful man. Merlin preferred Uther the way he was now.  
Of course, Merlin still did not think that Uther was an evil man, yet he was sure that the king had never experienced such tragedy, fear and deprivations that Merlin himself or Uther's victims have experienced. A man who was born of noble blood, always rich, always powerful, always ruthless, could not compare his personal tragedy to anyone else's tragedy.  
So he brought peace to Camelot. Well, easy, he conquered Camelot and threatened every other kingdom. Merlin was convinced that it was not so difficult for powerful Uther to have others following his lead, watching everything from a safe spot while the soldiers died in the battles. Merlin was sure of that. Uther had had the necessary wealth, the skills, the army. And in everything else concerning the Old Religion, he was just plain wrong.  
Was he?  
Merlin shook his head while rubbing the dirt off the boots. As a sorcerer and member of the Old Religion himself he was in no position to question his own kind.  
"I do not care if he dies. Honestly." Gwaine spoke the words as desultorily as if he was having a conversation about his last meal.  
"Well, Arthur will be hurt if he does", Percival replied.  
"But at least things will change."  
"Gwaine." Merlin heard Sir Leon's warning. .  
"What?" Gwaine asked. "Don't tell me that all of you are not feeling the same. Arthur would not only make a better king but also a good friend. Much better for us."  
"Uther is a good king", Sir Leon replied.  
Now Elyan spoke up. "And you prefer him over Arthur?"  
They were quiet for a while. Then Merlin heard Gwaine's voice again.  
"What is your opinion, Lancelot?"  
Merlin lifted his head and harkened. For a while, Lancelot did not answer. Then he said: "I think that wishing death on someone who is helpless and the father of our friend and prince is not something that I could ever do. The king has his flaws but he is just a man after all. It is our duty to protect the kingdom and with it the king. We are benefiting from the prosperity of Camelot that Uther brought here. We shall honour it and be thankful."  
"I am not wishing death on him," Gwaine responded. "I just won't be sad when he is gone, that's all."  
Merlin smiled. He admired Lancelot's kindness and wisdom and had not expected him to join the opinion of the knights. Yet, even though the knights were not referring to sorcery but obviously supported the law that banned magic from the realm, Merlin himself shared Gwaine's and obviously also the other knight's feelings that did not mirror Lancelot's point of view though. The young sorcerer would not be sad either if Uther died. And even worse: he waited for it to finally happen to finally make Arthur the king he is destined to be. And Uther was standing his way.  
Ashamed of his thougts but feeling relieved at the same time, Merlin rubbed the boots even harder.

When Gaius prepared himself for the counsil meeting he was still thinking about his last night's dream. His thoughts about the king and their past when he tried to get some sleep had transformed his dreams into chaotical pictures of Rome and Albion.  
Now that he was back in the here and now, doing his daily work but still recalling bits and pieces of his past, he could not help but remember the young king kneeling in front of Ygraine's body that lay in state. He rocked himself back and forth, sobbing and crying. The king was not to be disturbed but Gaius came to see how Uther was when he did not come out of the throne room where he mourned Ygraine. It was late in the afternoon already and the king had been in there the whole night and half a day. The physician was concerned that Uther might have done something to himself.  
Gaius assumed that Uther has been in this position the whole time because he could not stand up when Gaius gently tried to help him on his feet. It took them quite a while until Uther could walk again.  
The young king looked horrible. Exhausted and ill. Gaius felt great compassion when holding the king's arm to help him keep balance.  
Then, later when Arthur went sick, Gaius remembered Uther carrying his baby son for three days. The king did not sleep and barely ate.  
He only allowed Gaius to touch the baby when examining him, and the wet-nurse when feeding Arthur, even though the fever had gone already.  
When the physician saw Uther sitting on the bed and holding Arthur in his arms, the king's eyes closed slowly and he nodded off.  
Why was the same curse that was haunting Uther, laid on Arthur? The king allowed magic and he called a High Priestess of the Old Religion his friend. He even turned to magical help when asking for an heir, Arthur. The curse should be broken now.  
What was necessary to break the cycle of fate?  
The physician's thoughts wandered back to the days when Regina Aurora died. Uther, who was called Ambrosius at that time, was still a child, only ten years old.  
Gaius had returned to the pompouros empire from the colder land of Albion, hidden, to avoid being recognized by Contantinus and his family.  
Years ago, he had left Rome in order to find an answer to his questions. He needed to know how to save Ambrosius from the curse, and before he returned to Rome he had even expected to hear the news about the boy's death. But Ambrosius was still alive and well.  
Gaius had no intention to explain to Costantinus his secret departure when he was much needed as a physician in his palace, as the best medicus known in the city.  
He was not allowed to leave after all. Constantinus was a strict and hard man who showed little mercy to those who disobeyed. Gaius remembered how he emotionally distanced himself from his sons, especially from his youngest one, Ambrosius. It was only once that he carried him in his arms when they all thought that Ambrosius would die only a few days after his birth. Yet Constantinus was known as being fair and just, nevertheless quick in his judgements.  
People on the street were talking about poor Ambrosius who was such a funny boy with a great sense of humour, always laughing and making jokes, but calm and and withdrawn into hisself ever since his mother died. Gaius was certain that Regina Aurora had given Ambrosius all he needed, all the things that his father could not or did not want to give him.  
Now that Gaius was near the palace and saw Ambrosius involved in a fight with three other children who were all taller than Ambrosius and had him fixated on the ground, kicking and beating him, he resisted the impuls to interfere. And it was not even necessary. Constantinus arrived, back from wherever he was, sitting on a horse, accompanied by some of his men. Gaius burried his face deeper into his hood.  
Constantinus watched the scenario for a while and it was one of the boys who saw the king and drew his friends away from Ambrosius. When they started to run, Constantinus just raised his voice and shouted "stay!". The boys froze and it seemed that they did not dare to move. Contantinus still sat on his tall white horse that was half covered by the king's red cloak, looking down on his son who lay in the dirt and was holding his stomach in pain.  
The king watched him for while. Then he demanded: "get up."  
The boy did not move at first but then got back on his feet. He tumbled and fell down again.  
"Stand up!" Constantinus demanded again.  
It took Ambrosius a while until he found his balance and stood in front of his father's horse. Blood was running from an eyebrow and the dark-haired boy shifted his weight onto his left leg, his face contorted with pain. He was still small, Gaius thought, shorter than any other child his age.  
The king observed his son, then looked at the three boys of which Gaius was sure that they belonged to families of the palace, otherwise they would not have dared fighting with the king's son.  
"You are three and you attack just one. Is neither of you brave enough to face just one boy alone?"  
The boys looked down at their feet, not daring to face the king.  
"Who started this?" Constantinus demanded to know.  
"Father, they insulted moth..."  
"Silence!" Constantinus shouted at Ambrosius and the boy immediately lowered his head.  
"This was a cowardly action," the king continued and approached the boys slowly while still sitting on his horse. "One of you will face my son now. The others will await their punishment by their parents.  
The three boys seemed to be undecided and looked at each other, clearly intimidated and afraid. Then one of them pushed a blond boy into Ambrosius' direction.  
"You," Constantinus said to his son, "you are not able to defend yourself against three boys? How many times have I taught you to handle a situation when you are outnumbered? You will now show us that you are at least in a position to stand up to just one. And I expect you to win."  
Ambrosius did not look up and seemed to be embarassed. He did not face the blond boy's gaze who did not move and suddenly did not know what to do.  
"The two of you will fight now", Constantinus said. "Begin."  
Ambrosius looked at his father, and the next moment he was pushed to the ground. The blond boy stood in front of Ambrosius and looked down on him but Ambrosius' attempt to get back on his feet was invane when the blond boy suddenly bored his knee into Ambrosius stomach and braced an arm against his throat. The wrestling went on for a while, and no matter what the king's son tried, he could not free himself from the blond boy's grip. But suddenly, when Constantinus turned his horse around, seemingly giving up on his son's victory, Ambrosius screamed, pushed the blond boy away, jumped up and hit his opponent in the face. The blond boy fell down unconscious.  
Ambrosius now looked down on his plaguer, heavily breathing while the king turned around to his son, reproachfully.  
"Next time you will win over your enemy immediately. There is no second chance on the battlefield. When you start something, make sure you finish the job."  
Constantinus paused. Then he said: "And there is no way that I ever accept being humiliated by my son's weakness."  
The king rode away and Ambrosius started to cry in anger, eager to hide his tears when he tumbled toward the palace.

It was only two years later, two years for Gaius hiding from the royal family but watching over Ambrosius, when the king left Rome after his eldest son's death, taking Ambrosius and his brother with him to the lands of Albion. Constantinus' mission remained unclear to Gaius who followed them back to the land that gave him so much more insight into the magic he needed in order to understand what it takes to save Ambrosius from dying an unjust death. The only information he had was that the king did not intend to stay in Albion and that his reasons were strategic ones. As fate willed, Constantinus had to stay in the kingdom he was welcomed in, establishing close ties with those who would help him strengthening his power after Rome had suffered a drastical change while the king was gone. People were talking about Constantinus abandoning his home and leaving it vulnerable to conquerors or political enemies who were eager to take over, but Constantinus kept pretending to be the strong king who will return when the time is right, not showing any sign of remorse or, as he would believe, weakness.  
Of course, the rumours about the weak king of Rome who abandoned his own kingdom were not unheard by his two sons who struggled to conform with their new life in a whole new land, colder and darker than their own. The strange language was the least problem.  
King Ector's son, Godwyn, who was some years older than Ambrosius, took care of the new boy and soon befriended him.  
And Constantinus, who witnessed unnatural things that were called sorcery here in Albion, kept denying that such things existed. He was always eager to ignore anything that had to do with magic, telling his son's that people here were superstitious and unsophisticated, and that it was his and his sons' duty to bring them to senses.  
It was the time when Constantinus slowly weakened, began to talk with himself and with people who were not there. His new wife, a former servant, tried to hide Constantinus' condition best she could and also tried to ignore her husband's constant admonitions toward his sons to not get involved with servants since they were far beneath them and would try to take advantage of their heritage and wealth.  
Gaius listened to the gossip very curiously. He was certain that Ambrosius and his brother must have been more than confused and devastated by the fact that their father had married a serving girl, warned his sons about servants and slowly lost his mind. And all that in a new country with a new culture, seperated from the rest of their family and friends.  
And it was some years later when Gaius heard the news of Constantinus' worsened condition that was supposed to be caused by years of being poisoned by the brother of his new wife, the former serving girl.  
Ambrosius, not the small boy he used to be but now a tall young man and the only son of Constantinus after his second brother had died in an ambush that was led by a follower of the Old Religion who had declared to wipe out the king's family, demanded from the land's king Ector the execution of his stepmother's brother who had tried to get advantage of his sister's wealth and power once the former king of Rome was dead. Constantinus' second wife was innocent and had remained unaware of her brother's actions until all evidence was against him. She left the land and was never be seen again.  
Gaius was sure that Constantinus' condition of mind had not been caused by the poison. The signs of an illness that weakened the sprit had been there long before the former king met his new wife and her brother. The poison only quickened what was inevitable.  
Now Ambrosius was alone with his father, the only one left of his family, out of mind and weak, and close to his death.  
The young, tall man, not quite having come of age, took care of his father who was constantly muttering that he and Ambrosius had to sophisticate the people in this land to free them from superstition and to lead them into a future of progression and science, while Albion was shaken by battles and corrupting magic, causing thousands of people to die and be opressed by the Old Religion's domination.  
At that time, Gaius considered the possibility that he might have been wrong with his concerns. Was this Ambrosius' doom, being left alone, seperated from everyone he loved? Perhaps it was not about his death but about loss and his love dying. The physician found himself in deep dismay over the fact that he was helpless against such a curse. It was not only about saving the life of someone but about saving the lives of everyone who was close to his protégé. And he had failed. But could he be sure, was it a curse that would cause loss and not the actual death of Ambrosius? Had he wasted years of years trying to protect Ambrosius from something that would not even happen and from something he was incapable of changing?  
Gaius was tempted to let go off the self-imposed duty. When he was about to leave, a beautiful woman crossed his way. Her name was Alice.  
And at the same time, the physician heard the news of young Ambrosius having fallen in love with the Lady Ygraine. The king's son who had lost his father, changed his name. He left for Camelot, the kingdom that used to be so powerful and now was almost destroyed by the misuse of magic and descended into chaos. The son of the former king of Rome now went by the name Uther Pendragon.  
Gaius decided to stay. -


	2. Chapter 2

Now that the physician watched Uther holding his son who was slowly sliding off the young king's arms and would have fallen down if Gaius had not caught him,  
he decided to travel to the Isle of Avalon. He needed to know why the baby boy was cursed.  
"Sire." Gaius touched Uther's shoulder and the king startled. "What happened?"  
"You need to rest, Sire. I will take care of Arthur."  
The young king immediately stood up and took the baby out of Gaius's arms. "No, it is my duty." He walked around in the quarters and observed his son who slept in his arms, only chortling now and then in his sleep of exhaustion.  
Gaius watched him for a while, realised that Uther's fear for his son was more than just the concern about the fever. It was the horrible creature that encountered the baby. And, of course, Arthur was now the only one left who was blood, directly related to Uther. And he was the last part of Ygraine  
"The fever is gone, the boy is well. At least, eat something." he said.  
Uther did not answer but now stared out of the window, ignoring the physician completely.  
Gaius turned around, leaving his quarters and the king alone with his son.

Uther looked at the mess he had caused. The plate with food lay on the floor. He did not remember what had caused him to push the plate off the table,  
and once again the serving girl Gwen was cleaning the floor, without complaining.  
The king wondered if Morgana had ever told her maid servant that Uther was sorry for what he had done to Gwen's father.  
What a clear thought this was! For the first time he remembered something that did not have to do with events lying far in his past.  
Yes, he remembered that he had felt sorry for Gwen when she cried over the dead body of her father, the man that Uther had ordered to kill when he was impeached of having conspired with a sorcerer who even tried to kill Uther.  
The king suddenly crouched down and grabbed some fruit that was lying on the floor.  
He paused. What was he doing? Why was he helping the serving girl?  
"Sire, there is no need for this, I will clean this up." he heard Gwen saying.  
Uther suddenly remembered Morgana and the last words he had heard coming from her mouth. Her face that showed nothing but hatred, her cold, determined voice.  
He straightened himself and sat down in his chair, shaking his head when he tried to get rid of these thoughts.  
And suddenly the world turned grey again. There were some noises he heard. Noises of scrubbing the floor. It was Gwen, the serving girl.  
Where was Arthur? Where was Gaius?  
Where was his stepmother?  
Then he remembered that she was long gone. Only a few years after she had left, Uther received the news about her demise. He pitied her but felt no sadness about her death because she came into his family at a time when they had left their home and friends and when Uther, whose name was  
Ambrosius at that time, was still mourning his mother who had died of a deadly disease.  
It was one of those days when the boy waited for his mother in the gardens where they were supposed to meet, like they had been doing for years, as long as Uther remembered, every day at the same place, always at sunset. It was one of the traditions that he loved more than anything, talking to his mother and  
listening to the fairytales she told him. Tales about great warriors and mystical creatures.  
And then, one day, his mother did not show. Ambrosius waited until the middle of the night but his mother did not come to meet him. And she would never come again.  
It was until Constantinus and his sons left Rome for Albion that the boy continued coming to the gardens, sitting on the bench. Every day at the same place at sunset, silently and alone.  
Years later, in Albion, Uther was sure that the marriage with a former serving girl must have been the result of his father's madness. It was him who had always warned his sons about servants after all.  
Uther did not even know if his father had ever loved the woman.  
This all happened long after he had met the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. This girl, only a year younger than himself, still a child when he arrived in the new land after a long and terrible journey that would never lead him back to his home again, back to Rome, never even noticed him.  
Her hair was brighter than the sun and her eyes were as blue as the sky in Rome in midsummer.  
Ambrosius secretly observed her whenever she was near, and so he did now when she playing with her little friends in the rain in this dreadful, cold kingdom.  
The other girls and boys called her Ygraine.  
She did not belong to this kingdom but was here with her parents for only a while until her family would take her back home again.  
No, she did not belong here, Ambrosius thought.  
She belonged to to Rome. She should live in a palace that was built only for her, with a garden filled with flowers and a fountain and her room made of gold!  
What was such a beautiful girl doing here in this dark, cold land?  
The boy decided to approach her. No. What could he probably tell her?  
Ygraine sat down on a bench of stone near the market, soaked wet from the rain, laughing when her friends slipped in the mud.  
She suddenly stood up and ran over to them, starting a fight in the mud until all of the girls and boys were dirty with mud and laughing at each other.  
Yes, Ambrosius had to go to the girl whose hair was now dark and dirty and wet. At least he wanted her to notice him.  
The boy left his hidden place behind the tree and was just about to help Ygraine up while she contantly slipped in the mud and laughed her little soul off, when suddenly her mother came running towards the girls and pulled her daughter up.  
"What are you doing, for goodness sake? You are not supposed to play in the dirt!"  
The brown-haired woman turned over to Ambrosius. "And who are you? Have you told them to wrestle in the dirt?"  
Ambrosius opened his mouth but did not answer. Instead he just looked at Ygraine and her mother while the girl returned the look and instantly stopped laughing.  
"Never mind", the woman said and took Ygraine by her hand while they left. Ygraine did not even turn around to deign him another look.  
But Ambrosius felt like flying. Ygraine had seen him! She now knew that he existed. This land was not so bad after all.  
And later, when they get married, he will build a palace for her. In Rome, where the sun was warm and bright and where her beauty would be appreciated.  
Yes, that sounded like a plan. Now he had to work on it.

And his plans fell into place bit by bit later when he met her again, now that she was a young woman, even more beautiful than ever.  
It felt like bliss when he realised that she remembered him, and for a while it was enough for Ambrosius to just listen to her beautiful voice and to look into her  
big blue eyes, forgetting about her constant rejections whenever he asked her to take her out for a picnic. For the first time in years after his mother had  
died and after he had lost his brothers and his father, Ambrosius felt happy again by the mere presence of Ygraine.  
He could not stop thinking of her and her face haunted him night and day. Forgotten were the devastating years of loss and sadness, the new, cold land that appeared to be so very strange with all its unnatural happenings, with the fog creeping from the hills in the morning, the harsh winters and the strange, new language.  
Forgotten was the madness of his father and his constant rants about the superstition in this land, and forgotten this one night when he had to punch his father  
who, in his crazy mind, was strangeling Ambrosius and later lay on the floor, shaking and whimpering. The very night when the young man swore to himself that his children would never ever see him like this, that he would never ever expect them to put up with something like this, hoping that he would die before anything like this could happen to him.  
This was all over now. Ygraine was here. Even though she rejected him. Not all hope was lost, he still had time enough to win her heart, and he still had time to strengthen his position once he had conquered Camelot and then rebuild this once so strong kigdom that was almost destroyed by magic.  
And if he had to use magic in order to fight the dark magic, against his father's will, so be it. Not all the magic was evil, there was also good in the Old Religion, and he realised this even more when he met a very powerful sorcereress, Nimueh.  
She had saved his life when he and his men were ambushed, only by slinging the attackers away with some powerful sorcery.  
From this day on, Nimueh adviced Ambrosius in almost everything, telling him where to go and who to ask in order to gain an army big and strong enough to conquer Camelot. It took him a long and desperate time to build the army and he ignored the fact that not all of Nimueh's advices were the right ones, that one time he even lost the support of a neighboured kingdom, Caerleon, and that they were on the edge of war.  
Nimueh urged Uther to first attack Caerleon, but Ambrosius knew that challenging Caerleon would be suicide.  
The High Priestess probably did not have the necessary insight into strategics and the yong warrior decided to leave Caerleon alone, travelling from kingdom to kingdom and through the lands with his men, towards Camelot. The wealth of his father was not enough for the army that Ambrosius needed, and so three terrible years  
of deprivation and journeys followed, three years without Ygraine, until he had what it took to conquer Camelot and until he saw a dragon flying over the towers of the kingdom, like a sign that told him that this was the right time.  
Still outnumbered but determined and strong nevertheless.  
And when he met Gorlois of Cornwall who promised his support and followed him, contributing his soldiers to the army, Camelot would soon be a place of freedom and peace, released from the dark and corrupted magic that was about to destroy the entire land and be replaced by peaceful magic and progress only.  
Now going by the name Uther Pendragon, he was ready to face his future.  
With Ygraine by his side. Not in Rome but here, in Camelot.

"No, Arthur. I'm sorry." Merlin lowered his head when he could not ease the prince's pain and could not provide him with the information that Arthur  
had asked for.  
"It's allright, Merlin. Was a stupid question. Not even Gaius has heard of a cure, so how could you?"  
The Prince of Camelot sat behind his table in his quarters and had just finished a speech for the upcoming counsil. Merlin wondered why  
Arthur sometimes even needed to write down a speech when he was only talking to his counsil members. It should be easy speak freely.  
But perhaps Arthur was not as good with words as Merlin was, the young wizard thought, smiling to himself. There were things in which Merlin was better at, better as Arthur. A lot of things. Oh yes.  
Perhaps Arthur was just pretending to have good ideas and perhaps he was nervous when everyone looked at him and perhaps...  
"Read it over." Arthur's voice interrupted Merlin's thoughts.  
"Hmh?"  
"The speech." Arthur held up the parchment. "I want you to read it. It is a new edict because we need to strengthen our army."  
"Oh." Merlin took the parchment and read it through. The prince was about to slightly raise the taxes and to recruit new soldiers.  
Morgana's attacks had weakened Camelot's army even more and with the news about Uther's mental condition, Camelot was even more in danger.  
An easier target for conquerors. And for sorcery.  
The young warlock nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Your father would like it".  
"Merlin. "Arthur stood up and took the parchment out of his servant's hands. "We need new soldiers. I won't expect you to understand. I take no pleasure  
in raising the taxes but we have to be able to defend ourselves."  
"Yes, I know."  
"And my father did not even have to raise the taxes." The prince looked at the window. "Sometimes I wonder how he has managed to hold up the prosperity of the kingdom and the strength of the army without taking away the entire income of the people."  
He looked directly into Merlin's eyes. "What am I doing wrong?"  
Merlin shook his head. "Nothing. You are doing nothing wrong, Arthur. It's Morgana's fault."  
Arthur lowered his gaze. The young wizard knew that his prince suffered from the latest events. He not only had learnt about Morgana being his half-sister which not only dishonoured his father but also himself as well as Morgana and Gorlois' House, but he also witnessed Morgana's open enmity when she conquered Camelot, killed thousands of people and tormented her own father. And Merlin knew that Arthur did not know what to do next. It was more than  
conspicuous that he avoided speaking, and perhaps even thinking about Morgana.  
"What about the treasures of Camelot?" asked Merlin.  
Arthur nodded. "They are what keeps this kingdom alive but we cannot spend all of it entirely for the army and the materials. We are still repairing all the damage all around the castle in the lower towns."  
Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know that treasures can keep a kingdom alive."  
"You know what I mean." The prince walked over to the cupboard and picked a dark-blue velvet jacket. "The taxes won't be too high. And it will only be temporarily."  
The young servant hurried over to Arthur and grabbed the jacket out of Arthur's hands which the prince answered with a surprised look.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Helping you to dress?"  
"Don't you think that I can do it alone?"  
Merlin shook his head. "Evidentally, no."  
Apruptly, Arthur now took the jacket out of Merlin's hands. "You better clean my chambers. I want a clean and proper room when I come back."  
The prince grabbed the parchment and headed towards the door.  
"Well, then I suggest you don't spread your clothes all around the bed!" shouted Merlin, but Arthur had already left his chambers.  
Merlin sighed and grabbed some clothes that were lying on the floor. His thoughts wandered back to the events with Morgana when she asked him if he thought that she deserved to be killed only because she has magic. How close he was to tell her everything! Everything about himself and his powers, about him being a sorcerer, the one who understood what she was going through when being afraid of her true nature and the consequences in  
this kingdom that forbid magic. He had almost told her who he was and he had almost risked his life. He knew about Morgana's hatred but at that time, he had not known how strong her hatred was, how much she despised Uther and everyone else in Camelot, even her half-brother Arthur.  
His words, telling her that only she could ever soften Uther's heart, were being left unheard. Morgana did not want to change Uther. She did not want to be loved by him and she did not want him to have a change of mind. She was already far beyond that. All that she wanted was to kill and to hurt.  
Merlin did not understand what had changed her so much, why she has lost her mind. Oh, he knew that Uther would have killed him instantly if he had learnt about his true nature. But Morgana... Would he really have harmed her? Merlin was sure that he would have made an exception, just like he did when he asked Gaius for magical help in order to heal his daughter. And was his current condition not proof enough that he indeed  
would not have harmed her? She was his daughter after all.  
But she did not care. Whatever it was that drove her insane, she was beyond redemption. The young warlock once again regretted that he had not helped her when there was still a chance, when she came to him, desperate, trying to get some help when her new powers scared her to death.  
If he had just... He could have...  
But it was too late now. And perhaps even his help would not have changed anything, except his own life in case that Morgana had turned him in.  
Things were uncontrollable, everything went out of control when Merlin tried to help Morgana and sent her to the druids.  
Hundreds of people were killed only due to this. It was his fault. he should have listened to Gaius. And Morgana was not trustable, perhaps she has never been.  
Merlin bent over to grab the rest of Arthur's clothes and turned around. He frightened out of his wits when Uther suddenly stood in front of him.  
The king just stood there, wearing black trousers and a blue shirt, not moving or talking, just staring at Merlin.  
"Sire?... I... I did not see you. Sorry, I..."  
Merlin put the bunch of clothes onto the bed. "Arthur is not here. He... he has a meeting with the counsil."  
His words seemed to have no effect on the king. The tall man with grey hair stared at Merlin and did not move. And it was only his eyes that appeared to be so innocent in this moment that made Merlin feel compassion with the once so strong and feared king. Instantly, the young warlock shook off his thoughts and braced himself.  
Compassion was out of place now. Uther's reign had to end, Arthur's reign had to start. Merlin had helped Uther often enough already, he had been risking his own life for long enough. This was the way things were now, this was the end and the beginning, this was what Uther deserved.  
While Merlin silently took the king's arm and directed him out of Arthur's chambers, he tried to get rid of the doubts he had about what this man deserved.  
He did not want Uther to suffer but he also did not want to have him around any longer, neither destroyed nor recovered.  
Suddenly he realised that his thoughts were not so very different from what Morgana wanted, and it was Uther's helpless attitude and his insecure walk that alerted Merlin and made him cringe when being once again slightly shocked about his own thoughts and the realisation that his attempts to help were slowly disappearing and being replaced by selfish thoughts.  
The king did not fight against being led back to his chambers by a servant and remained silent.  
Merlin felt like taking care of a child and he had a bitter taste in his mouth. A taste of coldheartedness.

The Isle of Avalon. How much Gaius loved this place. This beautiful green island with its buildings of stone that looked like being made by sculptors with their round shapes on one side of a palace and the crystalline pointy shapes on the other. Some walls looked like being polished when they gleamed and sparkled in the sun. The most fascinating flowers and trees grew high and colourful, and the torches that guided the way to every place chased the darkness away when the night closed in. And this all could only be seen once the passenger had left the mists behind that hid the Isle of Avalon from its surroundings.  
It was so rich in knowledge, so mystical and calm.  
Gaius looked forward to it. He was close, only a few more hours, then he would reach the lake. The physician descended from the horse and paused at a creek. The clear water was cold and fresh and Gaius watched the swirling reflection of his face on the surface, his face dancing in the slowly streaming water.  
He touched his light-brown hair that Alice loved so much. Gaius did not know why Alice even bothered but he was more than content that this wonderful woman returned his love.  
Soon he would propose to her. Gaius smiled. He tasted the water again and was about to stand up when he suddenly saw a spherical-like big drop of water floating above the surface of the creek. A face showed in the sphere.  
The physician slightly backed off.  
"Fear not, Gaius. We will not harm you."  
The voice of this creature was soft and warm, almost like the voice of a mother talking to her child.  
"Who are you?"  
"We are Vilia", said the creature. "We are spirits of the stream. You seek guidance from the Hight Priests and Priestessess of Avalon."  
Gaius relaxed. "This is true. How do you know?"  
The Vilia came nearer and gave the physician a look that he could only interprete as being concerned. "Do not continue your journey. No good will come from what you desire to know, no benefit will come from those who answer you."  
"Why? What do you mean?"  
"It is the king and his son you are concerned about. Darkness has encased their lives. Your good will is not welcome in the hearts of those who cursed these mortals."  
The physician frowned, yet he trusted this creature even though he had never seen the Vilia before. Perhaps it was the soft voice, perhaps the mild facial expression and look.  
"I need to know why Arthur was cursed and why the curse that was laid on the king has not been broken."  
The creature who called herself the Vilia gently and slowly floated up and down.  
"There are forces in the Old Religion that fear Uther Pendragon and his rightful heir. The king does not embrace the Old Ways."  
Gaius blinked and tried to remember what Uther might have done wrong. He knew that the king has defeated some of those who used the darkest of magic, but he did not fight the Old Religion.  
"I do not understand. Uther befriended a High Priestess and asked for magic in order to receive a son. He ended the wars caused by the misuse of magic and paved the way for peace among man for and peaceful magic in the land."  
The Vilia closed her eyes and paused. Then she said: "This is not enough. Those who fear him need his obedience."  
"The Old Religion took his wife although he welcomes magic in his kingdom." Gaius' voice was turned louder. "Why did they do this and why is it not enough? The creature that cursed Uther told me that he will have to embrace the Old Religion and that he chooses his path. Only then his future will be altered."  
Again the Vilia glanced at Gaius in deep concern. "The boy, Ambrosius, was one of the first. One of the first who would bring a life of progression and self determination to man. His acceptance of magic does not undo the future that he and the others will bring about, a future without the Old Ways."  
She came even nearer. "There are powers in the Old Religion who do not agree with some of the Old Ways, but there are also those who desperately cling to them. They represent what is evident all over the land."  
"But..." Gaius shook his head in disbelief. "Why did the Old Religion not just kill him when they are so afraid of him? Why did they let him live and why did the creature say that he can decide when his fate and future is written already?"  
"The Old Religion needs Uther and those who are like him to confess and to bow to them. Only then they can proof to the mortals that a life without the Old Ways is impossible."  
The physician groaned. "It is not impossible."  
"You are right."  
Gaius blinked again. "I am? But you are a creature of the Old Religion."  
"Yes."  
"So you belong to the forces that do not agree with the Old Ways."  
The Vilia did not answer but Gaius knew that he was right.  
Then she said: "Uther Pendragon will never bow to the Old Ways and neither will his son. The death of the queen has determined the path and a dark time lies ahead of every sorcerer and magical being. The Old Religion is preparing for war, and the king is no longer a friend of magic."  
The physician gazed at the creature in deep dismay when he realised what the Vilia was talking about. "Ygraine's death made him an enemy of the Old Religion... If this is so, then why did they choose Ygraine?"  
"Those forces of the Old Religion demand obedience, no matter what they give to or take from their followers."  
"But who would submit to those who make someone's life miserable? If they wanted him to obey and to entrust his whole life to them, they better had not cursed him to cause him pain from the day he was born."  
"Desperate souls turn to higher powers."  
The physician paused. Of course... It made all sense now. "They want to break him," whispered Gaius.  
"Only those who accept the Old Religion unconditionally are true followers, "cofirmed the Vilia. " And only those can lead man into a future of dependency and subjection. The king of Camelot is not one of them."  
The Vilia closed her eyes again. "This land will be stricken with disaster."  
"Then do something about it and prevent it all from happening!" demanded Gaius.  
"We cannot. We are not almighty. We have, however, sent one of us already. The future now lies in his hands and it is he who will have to decide what future to bring about. It is he who can break the curse for the Pendragons and it is he who can free the land from all opression on all sides.  
And it is his fate who has determined the young prince's destiny already. Only his wisdom can save us all and end the reign of the Old Ways. Our hopes lie within his decisions."  
Gaius stared at the Vilia, trying to understand what she had just told him. She was talking about a saviour in a time of peace.  
"And who is that?"  
The Vilia smiled at Gaius. "You will know when you meet him. And you will know your duty. Farewell, Gaius."  
In only a blink of an eye the creature disappered.  
Gaius was still kneeling in the grass and he stared through the clear water on the ground of of the small creek. The saviour will be his duty? Uther was his duty.  
It was Uther and his fate for which Gaius had spent decades already, and now a saviour will be his next duty?  
What was Uther up to do and what was Gaius supposed to do? When he became a physician, he did not think of becoming a mentor and guardian for people who obviously were important in a war of the highest forces of nature. All he wanted was a life as a physician, and now all he wanted was a life with Alice, the woman he loved and whom he wanted to marry.  
Gaius took a deep breath. He understood now that he had been right whith his suspicion. The curse would cause Uther pain by losing the ones he loved.  
And there was even more to it. Those he loved were doomed, too. And Arthur? The boy was cursed because his father would fail in submitting to the Old Ways. Now it was his son who was supposed to be broken and it was he who was supposed to be saved by the saviour the Vilia talked about.  
He and Uther. And the entire land. What had Gaius brought himself into?  
The physician fought his thoughts of simply leaving the land, leaving Camelot, Uther, Arthur, the mysterious saviour and the fate of everyone behind.  
It should be easy to just turn a blind eye and to start a life. To finally start a life, far away from Albion. Oh, he deserved it!  
Gaius rubbed his eyes and sighed. It was time to go back to Camelot.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sister!"  
Morgana heard the weak voice of Morgause coming from the inside of the wooden hut. The High Priestess of the Triple Goddes dropped the firewood she had just collected and hurried inside.  
Her half-sister lay on the small bed in the corner opposite to the door and raised her hand. "I am thirsty," she said and tried to sit up, but she fell back into the pillows and moaned. Immediately, Morgana fetched a goblet with water and kneeled in front of the bed, lifting Morgause's head up to help her drinking from the goblet.  
Morgause had returned yesterday, from a woman who had promised to heal her. The healer's magic was not strong enough and the journey had weakened Morgause even more. And Morgana regretted that she had not accompanied her sister to punish the healer who had caused even more damage to Morgause's health. It was Agravaine who had demanded Morgana's attention and it was Morgause who had wanted her sister to stay.  
Although Morgana felt great relief that her half-sister was back, she was reminded of their failure and of Morgause's serious condition by the mere look at her body.  
The wounds to Morgause's face were slowly healing and thick scars were showing already. This once so beautiful face, now disfigured forever.  
Morgana knew that the facial injuries were not what threatened Morgause's life. She had become weaker each day since the battle in Camelot's palace. Once again, the High Priestess felt the uncontrollable rage that had overwhelmed her in the room where Merlin broke the spell when he knocked the Cup of Life over and helped Arthur defeating the army of immortals. This rage that she felt when her half-sister lay on the floor unconscious and  
defeated, and once again Arthur tasting the victory over Morgana. This little and arrogant man who obeyed his father like a puppy and discomfited every plan that Morgana and Morgause had schemed to finally bring the downfall of Uther's Camelot, of Uther himself and of everyone who was on his side.  
"Be patient," Morgause whispered, and as if she had read Morgana's mind, she proceeded: "Vengeance is ours but now is not the time. Tomorrow, we will leave for the Forrest of Mynydd-Y-Gaer. The healer might be able to help. He is our last hope. And then we will take what belongs to us."  
She breathed heavily and her eyelids flickered. "Now I need to rest. Prepare for tomorrow, sister."  
Morgana observed Morgause while she slowly fell asleep. Yes, the healer will restore Morgause's strength and then they will make new plans for taking over Camelot. And this time, Uther will not escape. Nobody will.  
For a long time, the High Priestess had not missed the visions that used to encounter her in her dreams, visions of the future, but now that she could hardly wait to destroy the lowlife of Camelot and to see Uther facing his ultimate undoing when he sees her again, she wished for another vision that could tell her the outcome of what she desired. But the future remained silent.  
It was time to prepare as her half-sister demanded. Agravaine will be here soon, she thought. And he will take care of the prince and his minions while Morgana and Morgause were gone. Agravaine, this little sycophant, was a valuable ally who had scared Morgana in the past when she was younger and first met him in Camelot, years ago at a banquet. What a sneaky man he was. It was long before Morgana wanted Uther dead, when she was about to warn the king of his brother-in-law. And as it turned out, she did not have to warn the king.  
Morgana remembered running into Agravaine years after Gorlois had died. The man with hair as black as the night sky grinned at her.

"Now, what a beautiful young woman you are", he said and scrutinized her with a glare that gave her a cold shiver.  
"Dare to take a walk with me?"  
Morgana pulled herself together and lifted her chin. "Perhaps later. I prefer to rest now."  
She forced herself to smile and was about to go but Agravaine grabbed her arm.  
"I hear you have come to terms with your new life in Camelot. I am glad that you feel comfortable with Uther and Arthur." He lowered his head but kept staring into her eyes. "Honestly."  
"Morgana?" Uther's voice from the end of the corridor caused Agravaine to immediately let go off Morgana's arm and Morgana turned around to the king who approached both Agravaine and her.  
"Is something wrong?" he asked and glared at his brother-in law.  
"Not at all," said Agravaine. "I was just saying how glad I am to see your ward in such a happy state. Tomorrow's feast will surely be a delightful event."  
Uther kept looking at Agravaine and positioned himself between Morgana and his brother-in law. "Indeed it will."  
The black-haired man raised his eyebrows and made a gesture with his hands. "Well, then I suppose we shall go to sleep. We need to be well rested tomorrow."  
He smiled and bowed. "My Lady. Sire."  
While he walked away, Uther looked at Morgana and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? Has he bothered you?"  
"I'm fine," Morgana answered. He wanted to take a walk with me and I... Forgive me but I think he is eery."  
Uther frowned. "What did he do to you? Tell me."  
"Nothing. Really. It's just... Never mind."  
"You can tell me anything, you know that."  
Morgana smiled. "I know."  
"Be careful of him," said Uther. "He is not to be trusted. I only tolerate him here for Arthur's sake and to the honour of..." he paused and then took a deep breath. "It is late, I will escort you to your chambers. You are coming of age tomorrow..."  
The king paused and looked at he gently smile. "Not so long ago you were a little girl and now you are a woman. Time is moving so fast."  
He grinned. "You make me feel old."  
"You ARE old!" responded Morgana.  
Uther laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "Come on. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for all of us."

_Yes, you are old Uther Pendragon_, Morgana thought. _And weak_. _And I will deny your soul to rest. Your suffering will be my delight._  
She thought of Agravaine again. There was something about him which had alarmed her in the past. Back then when she was depending on others.  
But this was over now because her powers were growing every day. And whatever character flaws lived inside this man, they could only be of use against Uther. He had never trusted Agravaine after all, and for good reasons. Agravaine was a great traitor in their midst, pretending to support Camelot and his nephew, Arthur.  
And when Morgana and Morgause return, they will benefit of the seeds of destruction that Agravaine will have sown.  
Oh, how she wished she had finished the plan when Tauren was about to kill Uther! How despisable of her to help the king in the end when she could have gotten rid of him long ago. How much she hated him for throwing her in the dungeons, humiliating her and surely enjoying his victory and abuse of power as king. Morgana was sure that he had a good night's sleep even though he had put her in irons in this cold, dark cell.  
Yes, he must have enjoyed grabbing her throat while Arthur just stood behind them and did nothing, just let his father hurt her, a tall, strong man having his hand at the throat of a woman less than half his weight.  
What a glorious feeling this must have been for him. Oppressing and threatening the weak ones.  
No. She was not weak. She has never been weak. Yet he thought she was. The look on his face, his eyes that almost seemed to show pain when he attacked her... No. No pain and no regret. He enjoyed it, she was sure. His heart as cold as ice.  
Morgana shook off the thoughts about the king's pain when he was challenged by Morgana, as well as the memories of the conversation they had later at Gorlois' grave. Every single word he said to her, every promise and his soft voice, he said it all only because at that time he did not know who Morgana really was.  
A powerfull sorceress. Very powerful. And now her powers would defeat his, now she would corrupt as he did, now she would again abuse her powers and show him what a pathetic little man he was.  
Morgana ignored his words that echoed in her mind. Even if he had meant what he said, it did not matter anymore. He had to die.

Uther sat down on his bed while Merlin tidied the corner in which the king's clothes lay on the floor. He had dressed himself before he went to Arthur's chambers but he had not paid attention to the clothes that fell out of the cupboard when he took out what he was looking for.  
The young manservant was a reliable boy. Uther was sure that despite his idiocy and clumsiness, he served Arthur very well. And he was trustable.  
For some reason, Uther has never had a problem to show his emotions in the presence of this young manservant. He trusted him with his son's life and accepted him more than any other servant he had ever met. Perhaps he did because Merlin was almost Arthur's age and reminded him of one of Arthur's little friends the young prince had a long time ago.  
Yes, he trusted Merlin. He was a good boy. And Gaius trusted him, too. Even more, Gaius loved him like a son, and if Gaius did, then Uther had no reason to question the manservant's integrity unless he was proven otherwise. Uther was glad that the accusations towards Merlin in the past had turned out to be errors and false accusations.  
It would have broken Gaius' heart if Merlin had been executed when he was impeached of having used magic.  
Merlin had risked his life for Arthur and he surely would also help Uther when necessary.  
Yes, Merlin would help. He was a good boy.  
Of course, he could not show a servant too much benevolence. He was the king and Merlin was only a servant after all.  
_I am the king..._  
Again Uther realised that he had even more clearer thoughts and that he was finally coming back to reality. The chaos in his mind had darkened his thoughts and numbed his senses ever since Morgana...  
_"You cannot even begin to imagine how much I hate you"._  
Uther felt his chest convulsing. The unwanted thought about his daughter made him shiver.  
His daughter, the child he had fathered before Ygraine finally showed that she returned Uther's love. The child that was conceived in a night of weakness when his best friend, Gorlois, was away at the northern plains and when Vivienne seduced the fresh king of Camelot. It had nothing to do with love butonly with passion and desire, and all the other occasions with the serving girls could not be compared to the night with Vivienne.  
Yet he had given in much too easily and he felt ashamed by being with another woman when everything he could think of was Ygraine, the woman who had been constantly rejecting him at that time.  
Little did he know about her reasons. It was only later that he learnt of them.  
And it was later when he wanted to eradicate the happening with Vivienne from his mind but felt great pride and bliss when he first saw his baby daughter of whom Gorlois' thought she was his own, only being born a little too early.  
But he wanted a child with Ygraine, he wanted and needed an heir.  
A little more than a year had passed since the wedding, and Uther looked into the beautiful face of his beloved wife, the one he had been loving ever since the first day he saw her when she was still a little girl. He felt save in her presence, and warm. All the terrible battles and exhausting treaties and deals with intriguing and dangerous lords and kings and warriors were forgotten when she was near him, all the dark magic that destroyed what was  
flourishing before was suddenly unimportant. It was her voice that eased his mind and the look in her eyes that reminded him of what it was like to be happy and settled. In her presence, he did not feel like a warrior but like a man.  
But this evening, her face did not show her usual confidence and calmness but concern and sadness instead. It was the evening when she had given up hope of ever conceiving a child. She had told Uther about the illness she had suffered from as a very young woman that had caused her body to not function as it was supposed to do. Regardless, Uther had insisted on marrying Ygraine. How could he ever abandon the woman he loved?  
He had never doubted for a second that their love will be enough to change what was impossible to change.  
But after more than a year of disappointment, the young king was now disillusioned.  
And he decided to seek help from Nimueh, his friend. In this night, for the first time, he ignored Ygraine's warning's of Nimueh, the woman she did not trust. He ignored Ygraine's constant remarks of being careful when dealing with powers that no mortal could ever understand or handle.  
It was the night when he sent Gaius to Nimuhe in order to request the help that only the powers of magic could provide, the help that he and Ygraine needed. The time of grievance and disappointment had to end. Uther and Ygraine wanted a child and Camelot needed an heir.  
When Gaius returned, he told Uther about a price that had to be paid. What price could ever be high enough to deny them the bliss of a child and of an heir? What life could be more important than the future of Camelot and the happiness of the people's beloved queen? Uther had seen so many people die. His loved ones, strangers, innocents and guilty ones. He had taken so many lifes in battles, seeing men draw their last breath, and he  
himself being aware of the very possibility that the next one might be him. Death was part of life, but the future lay in the hands of the newborns in this circle of death and birth.  
Uther was willing to pay any price. Any, except for one. And how could he had known that this was the very price he had to pay?

"You have to eat, Sire."  
The king did not look up when the voice of Arthur's manservant interrupted his thoughts of the past. You have to eat, Sire...  
He remembered these words. Gaius had once spoken them when Uther had already spent days in his chambers to take care of his newborn baby son.  
"It has been eight days now, Sire. The baby is well, but you are not."  
Uther did not know what to say. He could not leave his son alone while a dangerous creature was able to invade the halls of the castle at any time.  
But the physician was right. He felt so exhausted and weak. Yet Arthur was all that mattered now, more than his kingdom and his own well-being.  
"Sire?"  
The king watched his son trying to reach his father's face with his tiny hand.  
"Uther, your son needs you. This kingdom needs you. How long do you want to hide here?" Gaius straightened up and his voice became more determined.  
"Arthur will be without parents and without protection if you die."  
Uther kept looking into his son's face. What had he done? He had dealt with powers that were beyond his understanding, beyond his control, dangerous, intriguing... and evil.  
His beloved wife died because he had not listened to her. Because he had trusted someone he considered a friend. And did his brother not die at the hands of a sorcerer too?  
Had he not seen the destruction that magic has brought to this land, had he not seen the suffering of all the people who lay dead or who were devastated by all the battles and the dark magic that has wreaked havoc all around?  
Those helpless and desperate looks on the people's faces due to the wars between kingdoms that used magic and almost brought about their own downfall.  
The sorcerers and witches that took advantage of the weakened lands and their corrupted leaders. Had he not seen this with his own eyes?  
When he passed a village one day and saw the bloodstained, crushed bodies of men, women and children, all of them dead and some of them hung up on trees in rituals, with their guts showing through their slashed bodies, only to please powers of the Old Religion, all committed by soldiers and warriors of the old Camelot, all only because they were at war over land, wealth and power, expecting to be rewarded by the goddesses, he should have realised that magic could not be trusted.  
Uther remembered the horror on Gorlois' face that mirrored his own thoughts when they rode through the village, knowing that this was only the beginning of what was lying ahead of them.  
And he remembered that only a few days later, they went into a fight with outlaws, he and Gorlois, while they were exploring the woods not so far away from their camp. One of the outlaws disarmed Uther by whispering strange words and by only waving his hand, and the next moment he hit Uther with his sword on the head.  
If it had not been for Gorlois who run the outlaw through at the same time, Uther would have died. He was dazed and blood dripped into his eyes while Gorlois helped him up. They stumbled into a man who said he was a physician. This was when Uther met Gaius for the first time. And it was the first time that Gaius saved his life. He and Gorlois, both men who he trusted and to whom he owed his life.  
And now, instictively, the king touched the long scar on his forehead when he recalled past events of conquering Camelot. This scar shall always remind him of the danger of magic. Always.  
And it shall remind him that those with magic could never be his friends, that they would betray him at any time, that they already have betrayed him!  
Just not Gaius. Only Gaius could be trusted. He was more like a father to him than his real father had ever been.  
But Nimueh, the High Priestess, the woman who pretended to be his ally and trusted friend... She killed Ygraine. She took his wife's life and had not warned him about it. She was as evil as all sorcerers and she was as dangerous as the Old Religion itself.  
How was he supposed to live without Ygraine, the woman he has loved almost all his life, how was he supposed to go on when her death had ripped the soul out of his body and crushed his heart?  
Uther looked at Arthur. He could have sworn that his son was staring at Uther's scar. He was too young to understand, only a few days old. Too little to be save, too innocent to be locked up in the king's chambers, hidden from the evil outside. Uther had to act.  
He had to find this creature and he had to find out how the curse could be broken. He had to eradicate the evil from this land.  
"Send for Nimueh," he said.  
"Sire?"  
Uther looked up at Gaius. "I said, send for Nimueh. I want her here. She will not get away with it."  
Gaius did not answer immediately. Then he asked: "What are you going to do?"  
Uther looked at Arthur again. Then he stood up and looked straight into the physician's eyes. "I want a list of all sorcerers, witches, druids and those who  
practice magic. You will aid those who make the list and contribute with your knowledge. You will swear to me that you will never use magic again. From this day forward, magic will be banned from the realm forever. From now on, using magic will be punishable by death.  
He noticed the fearful look on Gaius' face. "Do you understand?"  
The physician blinked. "Sire... I... I'm..."  
"Do you understand?" shouted Uther.  
Gaius lowered his head. "I understand."  
"Swear to me that you will never use magic again."  
Again, the physician did not answer immediately. He stared at the king, visibly nervous and scared. "Sire, please reconsider..."  
"There is nothing to be reconsidered!" interrupted Uther his pyhsician. "It is the new law and you have to obey. Arthur will never be safe as long as magic exists. Nobody will be safe! He is cursed, Gaius. Cursed by a magical creature. The same magic that killed my wife..."  
He paused and stepped closer to the physician. "This is your last chance, Gaius."  
Uther saw the inner fight that Gaius fought with himself while he waited for the physician's answer. And he was relieved when Gaius finally gave it to him:  
"I swear." The physician's voice was low, and when he dropped his gaze, Uther knew that his friend had just submitted to something that would change his entire life forever. His and everyone else's life.  
Uther watched him for a while and swallowed. Then he said: "There will be no exceptions. Remember that when you help to complete the list."  
The king took a deep breath. No, there will be no exceptions. Magic has to die. They all have to die. He will find them all and free this world from all evil, from all tempting magic that brings nothing but pain. Yes, he will eradicate them from the realm, all of them. They will suffer like he and thousands of people have suffered. He will declare war on the Old Religion and its minions and destroy them once and for all. And if it takes a lifetime, so be it.  
He had been weak for long enough. His weakness has made him, Arthur, Morgana and this kingdom vulnerable, but this was over now. No weakness, no compromises. Never again.

"It is not cold in here today," Merlin said and brought Uther back in the here and now once again. "You are shaking because you haven't eaten."  
Uther felt a blanket around his shoulders. He had not realised that he was shivering but only felt cold now that the manservant mentioned it.  
"You are getting too weak."  
Merlin's words caused a weird pain in Uther's stomach. _Weak._  
Morgana made him weak. She had teared down his walls long ago already when he believed her sweet lies, trusted her with his life and loved her with all his heart. His daughter, the witch...  
He would have never hurt her. But he did. Once, when she challenged him. What had gotten into him when he grabbed her throat to warn her?  
How could he ever physically attack his own child? When he had her locked up in the cell, he was so relieved and glad when Arthur talked him out of keeping her in prison until she would come to her senses. Even after he had calmed down, before Arthur released her again, he could not ease his mind of the incident and he could not understand why he was unable to watch his temper, his damn temper that often got the best of him.  
Yes, Morgana challenged and insulted him, like she always did. There was no doubt that she went too far, but at the same time he knew that punishing her would have no other effect than fueling her rebellion. And he did not want to punish his daughter but he also did not know how to deal with her constant criticism and intolerable impudence. How he had always admired her strength, and now he felt so small and could not get any sleep, knowing that Morgana slept on the cold floor in the dungeons. He felt so sorry but helpless at the same time. She had to finally learn that she was not allowed to constantly humiliate the king.  
Why was she always opposing him, why did she always have to provoke and challenge him, belittle him and questioning his jugdement and decisions?  
Perhaps she did not know how much he loved her, perhaps he had failed in showing her. And later, that very evening, he should learn why she opposed him, after she had come to him to apologise.  
Uther remained reserved, but inside he felt like bursting and had loved nothing better than taking her in his arms.  
He was so glad that she was out of the cells and that Arthur had saved the situation. And that Morgana indeed felt sorry for her unacceptable behaviour.  
But when she told him that killing fathers obviously was something he was best at, he suddenly realised that she blamed him for Gorlois' death. Did she really believe that Uther abandoned Gorlois and that his best friend, the man who was like a brother to him, died at Uther's hands?  
Had she carried this grudge inside of her for half of her life, thinking that the death of the one she thought was her father had been Uther's intention?  
What a relief it was when she later agreed to visit Gorlois' grave with him. Finally, he was able to tell her everything that he had wanted to tell her the whole time, finally he praised her for her honesty and strong will, and finally he told her what a great friend Gorlois was. It had burdened his conscience for a long time, and now he could finally talk about it and ease Morgana's and his own mind. And if it had not been enough, Morgana even saved his life when the assassin attacked him and was about to kill him with a dagger. From this day on, he knew he would never punish his daughter again.  
What a bliss when father and daughter finally held each other close. It was as blissful as the moment when Morgana returned to Camelot save an sound, after a devastating year full of fear while she went missing because her evil half-sister Morgause had kidnapped her.  
Uther had failed in protecting his daughter and he had thought that it was his fault that Morgana was now at the mercy of an evil sorceress.  
He would have done anything to find her, anything, no matter the cost. Camelot's army had already been reduced to half and Uther became more and more desperate when there was no sign of his daughter.  
When would magic ever let him out of its grip, when would he and his children finally be save from the evil Old Religion?  
Uther barely slept, he constantly thought of all the terrible things that might have already happened to his daughter. Perhaps she was even dead already, perhaps she was alone and afraid out there, somewhere in the dark, perhaps she was facing all the horrors that he had tried to protect her from.  
Nightmare after nightmare haunted him every night in his short sleep, like the nightmares about Arthur and the curse had haunted him for years and years.  
There was one nightmare that was still repeating itself regularily. Uther remembered it every time when he woke up, sweating and terrified when he saw himself in one of these dreams being surrounded by fire while his baby son cried in his cradle that Uther was unable to reach.  
And every time when the fire died, he saw Arthur dead but still crying, and Uther could not take him out of the cradle because when he touched him, his son crumbled into dust.  
And when Morgana went missing, he had similar nightmares about her. And they all mixed up with the nightly visions of the many lives Uther had taken in his attempt to free the land from evil.  
But when she returned and confessed her daughterly love and respect for him, when he held her tight, all concern was gone, and for the first time in decades, he could sleep through the night and wake up without fear and headaches. For the first time ever since Ygraine died. He felt that finally things  
would come to terms with each other, that finally his family was strengthened and stable. Finally.  
It was all a lie.  
Every word coming out of Morgana's mouth, every embracement and every gentle look of her eyes were a lie. When she pretended to love him, she hid her hatred. And he had believed her.  
And she hated him because he hated what was a part of her. She just did not know that he still loved her. Surely, she was the one who had conspired with Tauren after Gwen's father was executed by Uther's guards. And she was the one who had helped Alvarr to escape. Secretly, Uther had known this all along, but Morgana disowning him that day and promising him hell, something which had hurt him grievously, now put a new complexion on it all.  
She was the one who had enchanted him with something that had made him seeing his dead wife and the children he had drowned.  
The children... Ygraine... This blonde boy. The little boy who had magic and who died at Uther's hands and who did not do or say anything when Uther's men grabbed him and held him under water until he was dead.  
He looked so innocent but he was not. His powers were strong, his destiny was to serve evil and soon he would have become one of those who destroy everything and everyone who did not comply and submit, everyone who wanted a peaceful life and would turn to magic sooner or later, hoping to have magic fulfilling their desires but instead supporting misery and pain everywhere. This boy... this innocent look on his face. His body was just a shell,  
a disguise for evil...What would Ygraine have said and done? How could he have killed a child and thought that Ygraine would ever approve of it?  
What has magic done to him, what has become of him?  
No! This boy was a dangerous enemy. Unpredictable and deceitful... Oh how he wished he had not done this. Why had the Old Religion planted its horrible seed into this boy, why had it corrupted his soul before he even grew up? But he was no boy. He was a thing that served the Old Religion.  
Uther knew that when one night during the Great Purge, this boy scared him to death when he suddenly stood next to Uther's bed, staring at him, quiet and motionelss, his head slightly tilt. And then he just disapeared into a swirl of dust. This was no ordinary boy. But still...  
And now he was here, charging Uther silently, standing in front of Ygraine, and they all were dripping wet, cold and pale.  
Ygraine... why did she keep begging him, what was he supposed to do? With every "please" she screamed, Uther thought he would lose his mind.  
He could not help her. Why was she tormenting him like this? There was nothing he could do. Why did she not stop, why did she not stop?  
Why was she dead, why was she here? Why did she not just come back to him but haunted him? He wanted to help her but he could not...

"Sire, what's wrong?"

Morgana had done this to him. She had given him the visions that almost killed him. If it had been going on for any longer, Uther would have killed himself.  
When he was sitting in the corner, hiding from the children and his dead wife who haunted him, he was picturing to grab his dagger that lay next to the bed. Running it through his heart would have ended this. Yes, his dagger would make an end to it, once and for all. A weapon so simple, a cold and ordinary tool that had nothing of this terrifying and horrific magic but was yet so effective.  
But he could not get up on his feet. And when he saw Gaius, he wanted to beg him to help him up and to get him the dagger and to stop it all and to protect Arthur and Morgana, all at once.  
Morgana... She wanted him dead.  
_She was not here when the Great purge started, or before, when magic caused mayhem everywhere_, he thought. She did not see what he saw, she did not feel the desperation and rage when the destruction of everything grabbed his soul and squeezed it, she did not feel the helplessness and emptiness, and she did not have to protect two little children from all the evil outside.  
The children he killed were the reason why he had stopped the Great Purge. He never wanted to be forced to kill a child again, never. He never wanted to take them from their parents who cried, screamed and begged for their children's lives.  
Perhaps, if he just would not see them, it was safe enough. They all certainly were scared enough to leave Camelot alone. And the law was clear after all.  
There were still sorcerers out in the lands but they just had to leave Camelot alone. Why did this druid boy have to come to Camelot decades later?  
He should have stayed were he belonged, then Uther would not have tried to capture him and would have had no reason to try to execute him.  
Had the purge not been warning enough? Uther saw Morgana's face in his mind's eye.  
Was the purge really the only answer?...  
Uther recalled the time of the purge so vividly after all these years, and his stomach ached again. He remembered his encounter with Nimueh and her cold eyes pretending compassion when they were only filled with lies. He remembered every single word and every single look, the strong and overwhelming impulse to kill her on the spot mixed up with the desire to beg her to bring Ygraine back while searching her eyes for a glimpse of honesty  
and willingness to help

"I am sorry," she said when she stood in front of Uther in the throne room. "There is nothing I can do and there is nothing I did not warn you about."  
"You did not tell me that she would die!" shouted Uther and started to quaver.  
"The balance of the world had to be restored and the life that is taken in exchange is chosen by the Old Religion. I did not know this was going to happen."  
Nimueh's calm voice fueled Uther's anger. "You knew it would be somebody I love," he whispered while he clenched his fists.  
"I only granted your wish. Your wife's death was the natural consequence of restoring the balance. It was not my doing."  
Uther wanted to kill her with his bare hands. "You are lying."  
The sorceress did not move but only watched him with her dark blue eyes. "It is time to accept what was inevitable. It is time to accept that you were the one who wanted an heir. You have to learn to live with the consequences of your doing."  
"She warned me about you," whispered Uther while staring on the ground. "She knew you would play a viscious game."  
Then he looked at her. "And now my son is cursed."  
He ignored Nimueh's calm facial expression when he stood up and approached her until he stood right in front of her. "Who was this creature and how can the curse be broken?"  
The sorceress remained calm and raised her eyebrows. "I know nothing about it."  
"You are lying again!"  
"You blame me for your wife's death but you want my help at the same time. Does that mean that you still trust me? Be careful with your wishes, Uther Pendragon."  
He stared at her in total rage. How much he wanted to kill her on the spot.  
"You will pay for this," he promised. "From this day forward you are banished from Camelot forever. Don't you dare to ever return."  
"You want me to pay for your sins?"  
Uther could not hide his shaking and shivering, starting in his ankles and crawling up his whole body.  
Could it be that she was indeed innocent and that she had not known about his wife's fate?  
Was it only a coincidence and the consequence of the tempting magic that promised so much and took even more?  
The magic that was unpredictable and that already has possessed men and would always bring destruction and pain...  
"Leave."  
Nimueh did not say a word but only looked at him. The next moment she disappeared into thin air.

He should have killed her. Remembering her dark blue eyes now was like feeling all the pain again. Those eyes that...  
"Sire?"  
Those dark blue eyes he was staring into, almost hypnotized by them, by the lying, cheating eyes of magic... like now!  
Uther leaped to his feet and pushed his enemy as hard as he could. He heard the sound of a body falling and was now looking down on the one lying on the floor, thinking of killing that witch.  
He breathed heavily and remained in this position for a while. The blue eyes changed. They went brighter and...  
The king blinked. He was standing over the young manservant who was lying on the floor, looking at him in surprise and fear.  
What had he done? Merlin did not deserve this. Nimueh was not here, she was in the past...  
Uther had to leave this room. He had to find Arthur.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin watched the king leaving the chambers. What has just happened? Uther had pushed him so unexpectedly that the young warlock did not even realise that he was attacked until he lay down on the floor, looking in surprise at the tall man looking down on him.  
Before Uther jumped on his feet, he had started to cry again and Merlin had no idea what was going on. The king's madness seemed to be worsening every day.  
The young wizard tried to stand up but a terrible pain in his back made him moan. The pain crawled from his back up to his head and Merlin felt dizzy. Uther had pushed him against the cupboard, and for a blink of an eye, the world turned black around Merlin. He must have hurt his back on the cupboard, but he had to go after the king. Who knew what he was up to.  
Again the young wizard tried to stand up but had to sit down on the floor again when the world began to turn around him.  
_Fine with me, _he thought_._ _Perhaps he does us all a favour and falls down the stairs._...  
Merlin raised a hand up to his forehead and closed his eyes. For once he wanted to get rid off his sense of responsibility and just let things go their natural way, releasing them all from the problems with Uther took a deep breath. In Uther's state of mind, he was capable of hurting others, and Merlin had to prevent this.  
"Damnit", Merlin whsipered. He was tired of taking care of a man who disapproved of him and surely even would not waste a thought on the servant of his son. Tired of the man who would even kill Merlin without batting an eye.  
The young warlock slowly got on his feet and ignored the pain while he tumbled towards the heavy doors that Uther had left open. One of the guards lurked inside the room.  
"Find the king," demanded Merlin and did not care that he had just given the king's guards an order. And obviously, neither did the guards when they hurried down the corridor.  
Merlin leaned at the door step and closed his eyes again. His hand reached the back of his head and he felt something wet...  
He tried to support hisself against the door frame but lost grip and fell down.

Uther stopped. Where was he? He was on his way to find Arthur but he could not remember why. He stared on the floor and tried to recall what had urged him to find Arthur. Then he suddenly remembered.  
The curse! Yes, he wanted to tell Arthur about the curse so that he would be prepared and could find a way to lift it.  
He should have told him a long time ago.  
No. He could not. He must not. Nimueh had once told him that those who are cursed would worsen it the moment they learnt of it by trying to prevent the things from happening. And by trying to prevent things from happening, they would come to pass. She told him this. Yes. At a time when they were still friends and when Uther wanted to learn as much as he could about magic in order to know what it could do when people abused it.  
And what if Nimueh had lied?... What if it was the truth? Even Gaius could not tell if Nimueh had told the truth and so Uther made him swear a solemn oath to never tell Arthur about what happened when he was just a few days old.  
"Arthur must never know about what happened to his mother and to him," he had told Gaius.  
"He must never learn that he was born of magic. I don't want him to question his own existance. He must not despise himself and he must not be uncertain about his loyalties. Magic will be his doom if he ever tries to turn to it or sides with the Old Religion because of the circumstances of his birth. They will take advantage of him and destroy him the moment he lays his life into their hands."  
Yes, that was what he had told Gaius.  
But what if it was time to end the war on magic? Now that Morgana...  
Uther stopped breathing for a moment. He lost his thoughts and slowly forgot about what he actually wanted to do.  
When he looked up, he saw himself standing in front of the chambers in which Arthur was born. The chambers that were sealed forever and that nobody was allowed to ever enter.  
For decades he had been avoiding to even come close to these chambers. Uther breathed heavily and started to feel dizzy again.  
He had to leave immediately but he could not. In his mind, he pictured himself running away as fast as he could but he kept standing in front of the doors.  
"Sire?"  
Uther knew that voice. It belonged to Agravaine. What was he doing here in these corridors? He was not allowed to...  
When Uther turned around, nobody was there.  
"Sire!"  
Another voice was coming from the other side of the corridor. A knight approached him. It was... Uther knew him... It was... Lancelot. Yes, Lancelot. He... he had helped freeing him from the dungeons in which Morgana had held him prisoner.  
In which Morgana had told him how much she hated him...  
"Sire, are you alright?" Uther felt Lancelot's hand on his shoulder. He looked into the brown eyes of the knight... He had  
banished him from Camelot. No... Lancelot had left willingly. Yes, he had said that he did not want to cause harm and then he left. What was he doing here? Oh, it was Arthur. Yes, Arthur brought him back to Camelot. He was a knight but not of noble blood...  
Where was Agravaine?  
A noise came from around the corner.  
"Who is there?" Uther heard Lancelot shouting. "Show yourself!"  
The knight looked at Uther again. "Stay put, Sire." Then he placed a hand on his sword and went over to the side of the corridor that led to the stairways.  
Uther tried to remember what he was doing here. The last thing he recalled was looking down on Merlin lying on the floor.  
Merlin... had he hurt him? The young manservant hit his head hard when Uther pushed him. What was happening to him?  
If he had hurt Merlin, he now had to take care of him. It was his responsibility to help him. Yes. He never abdicated responsibility.  
What was he even doing here?  
The king turned around and decided to go back to his chambers. He knew the way very well and it did not take him long until he reached the doors. His guards were gone but somebody lay on the floor.  
Uther crouched down and watched the face of the unconscious manservant. Then he turned Merlin's head to the side and saw blood dripping down the neck.  
What happened? Somebody obviously had attacked Merlin. In the kings's chambers...!  
Uther grabbed Merlin's arms and pulled him inside his chambers, closed the heavy doors and searched for his sword. Where was his damn sword? He could not find it. Someone must have stolen it, Uther thought. But there was still his dagger. He had hidden it.  
The dagger that had saved his life once, back then when he was in the middle of a fight when he and his army had reached the borders of Camelot, intending to replace the old king who had precipitated the kingdom into ruin and chaos and abandoned his people.  
A soldier had rammed his sword into Uther's right shoulder while the young conqueror had let his defense down for a moment when he was trying to drag his own soldier and young friend to safety. The noise of clashing swords, screams and neighing horses rang in his ears. It was cold and wet and the air smelled of smoke and blood, and men of both sides were falling down all around Uther while he tried to keep his friend alive and to get him off the battlefield.  
The enemy had struck hard and rentlessly and was slaughtering Uther's men like butchers in blood rage, not even surrendering now that they were outnumbered and should not stand a chance. But they did not stop. They flailed around as if they had lost their minds, hitting men wherever they could hit, cutting off arms and legs, mercyless and in total rage, like cornered wild animals. Like the barbarians Uther had heard stories about.  
This was not a battle, not a fight, this was pure slaughter and brutality. Nobody had expected this brutality and determination of Camelot's soldiers, and Uther and his men were totally overrun by them before they could even blink. How could he have underestimated them?  
How could Nimueh have said that Camelot was weakened and protected by only a few fearful soldiers left?  
Uther felt pure horror by the rage of these soldiers, their mad facial expressions as if they were out of their mind and not men anymore.  
Then the pain of the sword stuck in his shoulder, the sword that had nailed him to a tree, made him scream himself. This horrible pain when the enemy moved the sword up and down and made Uther think that it would cut his arm off of his body.  
The next moment he held his dagger in his left hand and cut the soldier's leg. When the soldier dropped on his knees, Uther slit his throat.  
The soldier of Camelot tumbled backwards and fell down.  
Uther ignored the screams around him and the moaning of his young friend Igard when he tried to grab the hilt. He could not reach it, and suddenly Igard lifted himself up and pulled the sword out of Uther's shoulder. Such a terrible pain... Uther saw sparkles and flashes dancing in front of his eyes and then he embraced the darkness that he fell into.

When he woke, he noticed the smell of a horse, felt the strong and warm muscles of the horse's neck on his face, the soft horse skin that felt gentle on his own skin. Then the pain in his shoulder came back and Uther moaned and lifted his head up.  
"Don't move," said the voice of Gorlois behind him. "We will rest in an hour. You are wounded."  
"Igard?" Uther's voice was hoarse and the pain in his shoulder worsened with every move of the horse he was sitting on with Gorlois sitting behind him, securing his friend so that he would not fall down.  
"Dead. I am sorry, Uther. He saved your life before he died. And you... you almost died because you tried to save him when he was lost already." He paused for moment and then he proceeded: "You were distracted when looking after him. It almost cost you your life. Never do that again."  
Uther closed his eyes. So many of his men died today and for the first time he was losing faith in a victory over the dreadful army of the ruined Camelot. If he died of the wound that most certainly will become infected, he would never see Ygraine again.  
All will be lost. The land will be led to its doom, corrupted magic will rule and all friends and soldiers will have died invane.  
Igard, his loyal warrior, his young friend... Uther hoped that he would have time enough to honour Igard's courage.  
The young man, only seventeen years old, was trained by Uther himself. A commoner of the village near to Mercia, enthusiastic and wild but still too unexperienced. He was much too young. Uther realised that when he made Igard his knight, he had condemned him to death. Igard should have stayed where he belonged, he was not made to be a knight or a warrior, and yet Uther had not succeeded in talking him out of it. It was a mistake. He should not have taken the boy to the battle. And now, if Uther died, young Igard will have died invane, too. Even more; if Uther died, Igard will have failed. He was never really a knight and he also almost cost Uther his life. It was not Igard's fault.  
"Never shed a tear for your men", Uther's father had once said. "Never put your life into the hands of peasants and never bond with your soldiers. Their purpose is to protect you and you must not allow yourself to be engaged in friendhips when you cannot bear losing a friend on the battlefield."  
Uther needed Nimueh. She would be able to help him to heal. But she was far away, on the Isle of the Blessed, too far to reach.  
"We need this physician," said Uther and tried to move his right arm that hung down like the limp arm of a puppet. The pain worsened and the young warrior moaned again.  
"You mean Gaius? He is right behind us and has treated your wound already. Hold on, my friend. You'll be back on the  
battlefield soon enough."  
Gaius, yes. He knew the name. His father had mentioned a man called Gaius once. He had called him a traitor and a  
coward who had abandoned the royal family a long time ago, but Uther had no idea who this Gaius was his father had mentioned.  
He was a ghost of the past back in Rome anyway, probably long dead.  
But this Gaius here, he was a brave man. For some reason, Uther trusted him. As soon as he has established his rulership in Camelot, he will make Gaius his court physician. If he succeeds...and survives. He had no idea how Gaius  
could ever heal the wound and restore the full function of his arm again. Uther was sure that he would die.

The young man on the floor did not move. His eyes were closed tight and Uther examined the wound on the man's head.  
What if he died now? What would he tell his family? That the king was not capable of protecting the unexperienced and weak?  
Surely, his loved ones would blame Uther for his death and they were right to do so. Like Igard's mother was when she came to Camelot years later, disregarding the protocol when she approached the new King of Camelot who was mingling with his people on the market. Her eyes were filled with tears, her face showing the pain of a mother who lost her child. She came so close to Uther that he instinctively backed off, but only a moment later she slapped him hard and blamed him of having taken her son with him to a battle that he was not made for.  
"You killed him!" she said with a cracking voice. "You made him a knight when he was only a boy, a farmer, not familiar with your life as warriors! He was your friend. He adored you and he looked up to you. You impressed him with your way of being a hero but you did not stop him and made him believe he could be like you."  
She paused and ignored the guards that grabbed her by her arms but released her when Uther raised a hand.  
"He was no knight, Uther. He was only a farmer's boy. Your friend. His death is your fault. I lost my son because of you." Her lips were twitching and tears rolling down her face.  
"Remember that when you see ordinary boys trying to be more than they are. May the gods spare you the pain of losing a child."  
Uther swallowed. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he had tried to talk Igard out of this and that he did his best to protect him.  
But it would not have changed anything. The boy's mother was right, Igard's safety was his responsibility and his death was his fault.  
He gazed at her while she left and he did not say a word. And he suddenly felt deeply ashamed for having sent her reparations for her son's death that were returned to him weeks later.

Uther still observed the unconscious young man on the floor. He looked innocent, just like Igard did. Igard was not very clever but naive and eager to be part of Uther's army. A good sword fighter but not a good warrior and he had never been raised to be one. A simple minded, friendly boy. Like this young man lying on the floor was.  
Uther heard noises outside. Promptly, he grabbed his dagger and watched the doors. Two soldiers showed their faces when the door opened and Uther immediately shouted at them: "Don't you dare to come any closer! I will kill you on the spot!"  
He stood up and positioned himself between the guards and the unconscious man he had to protect. No man of his will die again, he will defend them with his life before all is lost.  
"I am warning you," said Uther.  
The soldiers looked at each other and remained standing outside the door. "Sire?"  
"Go away! Now!"  
Uther then saw another soldier arriving outside the doors. It was Lancelot, followed by Gaius.  
"Uther!" Gaius came closer but the king made a gesture with the dagger. "Step back! If you come any closer, I will kill you!"  
Gaius stopped and remained standing where he was. Uther noticed the scared look on Gaius' face when he spotted the young man lying on the floor.  
"Nobody is going to hurt you, Uther. Let me take a look at Merlin. Please."  
Merlin? His name was not Merlin... yes,... yes, it was Merlin. Yes, right, he was attacked in the king's chambers, and whoever did that, surely wanted to attack Uther. But why was Gaius on the soldier's side?  
He heard Lancelot giving orders to one of the men. "Bring Arthur. Hurry."  
Arthur?  
"Where is my son? What have you done to him?"  
Lancelot shook his head. "Nothing, Sire. He is fine and on his way. Everything is alright, you don't have to fear us."  
Uther was sure that Lancelot was giving him a compassionate look but he did not know why.  
"Uther, it is me," said Gaius and slowly stepped forward. "Look at me. Do you remember me?"  
Yes, of course he remembered Gaius. He was his friend and court physician. "Examine him." Uther stepped aside to let Gaius pass but kept the soldiers covered.  
Gaius kneeled down and began to examine the unconscious man who was called Merlin. "We need to get him to my quaters, Sire.  
I have to treat his wound."  
"What's wrong with him?" asked Uther and kept his eyes glued to the soldiers.  
"I believe he has a concussion."  
"Will he survive?"  
"Most likely. But I need to treat him."  
"Like you should have Igard!" shouted Uther. Gaius looked at him in suprise.  
"Igard?"  
The king blinked. What was going on here? His shoulder hurt again, he heard the screams and smelled the blood again, the air was filled with fume and smoke that creeped into the lungs and made it hard to breathe. All these screams...Uther raised a hand to his head.  
"Stop it!" The king closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the reminiscences of the battle of Camelot, of the pain in his shoulder and the horror that overpowered them all when the slaughter began.  
"Father?"  
The king looked up and saw the face of his son. He was not on the battlefield but in his chambers. And the guards... they were not enemy soldiers but his own men.  
"It's alright father, you are safe."  
Uther looked at Merlin and remembered again. For a moment, he just stared at Merlin, slowly recalling what happened.  
"He was attacked... I did that." Then he looked at Arthur again. "I'm sorry."  
"It is alright, he will be fine again."  
Arthur approached him and took the dagger out of his hand but Uther grabbed his son by his shoulders. "Arthur, the curse...you must..."  
He stopped and Arthur gave him a questioning look.  
"What curse?"  
The king stared at his son and wanted to tell him everything but he could not. Uther wished that the horrible creature had cursed him and not Arthur.  
He wished he could take the curse from his son and lay it on himself if it ever helped Arthur to lead a life free from evil.  
But the curse spoke of those close to Arthur being doomed. So Uther knew that he was affected, too. As well as all those who would ever grow close to Arthur. There was no way out. He had been trying to free his son from the curse for decades, but he was not the right one because his own involvement dragged them all only deeper into the circle of destruction. And if he had been cursed himself, Arthur could not escape it either. What an evil curse this was.  
Uther saw Arthur nodding into Gaius's direction. "I will stay with you, father, don't worry. Everything is going to be alright."


End file.
